The Game of Love
by shmexsay
Summary: Love is whatever you make it to be.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Written for liliancho in the 2008 AS/S Fest. The prompts I chose to use were Slytherin!Albus and Ravenclaw!Scorpius paired up in Potions, China, and items off liliancho's character lists. Countless thanks to my betas, gabespeaks and dracovontrapp, especially gabespeaks, who helped me completely transform this fic. Also, thanks to ruien for her help with the Chinese. The summary is stolen from the song "The Game of Love" by Carlos Santana ft. Michelle Branch.

**The Game of Love**

Scorpius first noticed Albus Potter at the Sorting Feast. Well, no – he had glimpsed the other boy earlier at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, but he had been busy fending off his mother's kisses and his father's last minute advice then. It wasn't until later, when Potter was beckoned forwards to take a seat and don the ragged old Sorting Hat, that he really caught Scorpius's attention.

Undoubtedly one of the smallest boys in Scorpius's year, Potter stumbled up to the front of the Great Hall and sat down on the stool amidst a wave of mutterings about "a new Potter boy". His eyes darted around nervously, taking in the sea of faces turned towards him. Someone from the Gryffindor table whooped and called out his name. Blushing, he ducked his head.

Over at the Ravenclaw table, Scorpius was busy studying Potter. The other boy had a pale, narrow face and bright green eyes framed by thick, dark lashes. He would have looked aristocratic, if not for the unfortunate smattering of freckles across his nose. His hair was also atrocious, a shocking contrast to the overall air of put-togetherness he gave off. At the moment, he looked terrified.

Scorpius rolled his eyes. _Hufflepuff_, he predicted.

The Sorting Hat was placed on Potter's head. The entire Hall drew in a collective breath, waiting, anticipating, hoping it would be...

"Slytherin!"

In the stunned silence that followed this most unforeseen proclamation, Scorpius dropped his fork and, like every other living, breathing person in the Hall, jumped to his feet to catch a glimpse of the boy who had just defied every existing universal law.

A Potter. In _Slytherin_.

There must have been a mistake.

Flitwick lifted the Hat off of Potter's head, but Potter sat frozen to his seat. A prickly silence fell over the Great Hall as students and professors alike blinked and shook their heads, as if emerging from a deep sleep.

At last Flitwick gathered his wits and ushered Potter away. Potter headed for the Slytherin table, his movements stiff and jerky. Every Slytherin head snapped in Potter's direction as he sat down heavily near the head of the long table. None of them bothered to conceal their disbelief, or even put on a show of friendliness. They were all too stunned to do anything but gawk at their newest housemate.

Slowly and steadily, the noise level in the hall returned to normal, and after many quelling looks from the headmistress, the Sorting resumed. Scorpius, however, was no longer interested in seeing how his classmates were divided. Instead, he gazed unabashedly at Potter, trying to discern a reaction other than shock in his countenance.

Potter must have felt Scorpius's eyes on him, because at that moment, he glanced up. Their gazes locked, and suddenly Scorpius found himself quite unable to look away. It was rather nerve-wracking, having those wide eyes with their doll-like lashes fixed on him. They were so bloody _green_; it was almost unnatural. Annoyed, Scorpius stuck up his chin and glared back.

Their silent staring contest lasted all of ten seconds before Potter furrowed his eyebrows and refocused his attention on his plate. Sighing with relief, Scorpius adjusted his glasses, which had slipped down his nose, and turned to the curly-haired boy sitting next to him. He was also a first year; Scorpius distinctly remembered him from the carriage ride earlier that night.

Thinking, _Might as well get used to this_, Scorpius extended a hand. "All right?"

The boy looked startled to be addressed by Scorpius. He looked at Scorpius's offered hand for one very long second, as if he couldn't quite believe it was there, and then took it. "Scorpius Malfoy, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Scorpius said, pleased that he'd made an impact already. Never mind that the boy had said his surname like uttering it would result in his untimely death; that could be worked on. "Who're you?"

"Simon."

"Simon...?"

"Oh, sorry. Longbottom."

Scorpius racked his brain. The name sounded familiar. He was sure his father had mentioned it once or twice, but he couldn't remember the context in which it'd been brought up.

_Well_, Scorpius reasoned, _he can't be too bad if he's in my House._

"I guess we'll be sleeping in the same dorm from now on," Scorpius said, offering Simon a smile.

"From the looks of it, yeah."

"Nice to meet you, then."

Simon grinned at Scorpius. "You too."

Just like that, the first ever Malfoy-Longbottom friendship was formed.

_Five years later_

"For Merlin's sake, Scorpius, stop staring at her and get your gerbil under control!"

Scorpius blinked at Simon. "What?"

"You. Rose. Gerbil."

"Rose is a what, now?"

"Not her, your _gerbil_!"

Simon seized the creature by the base of its tail and held it upside down in the air. Scorpius wrinkled his nose at the wriggling rodent. "Get that out of my face, Simon."

"It's yours!" Simon exclaimed, dropping the gerbil on the table in front of Scorpius. It sat back on its haunches, looking dazed. "This is the third time it's nearly fallen off the edge of the table. If you're going to spend the rest of class gazing longingly at Rose, find someone else to gerbil-sit for you, okay?"

"I'm not _gazing longingly_ at anyone! It just so happens that Rose is in the way of the board."

"So is the rest of the class, but I don't see you giving any of them starry-eyed looks." Ignoring Scorpius's indignant spluttering, Simon picked up the slipper he'd Transfigured his gerbil into and examined it. "I dunno; something about it seems off. What d'you reckon?"

"It's still got eyes," Scorpius said, pointing at the two beady eyes gleaming on the top of the slipper. "And I'm serious, I wasn't staring at her!"

"Yeah? What's this, then?"

Simon widened his eyes, pulled the insides of his eyebrows up, and stuck his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout, affecting a crude imitation of a lovesick girl.

"And here I was, thinking nothing could make you uglier than you already are," Scorpius retorted. "Stop it, before I hex that pathetic look off your face."

Simon laughed, and his features relaxed into their usual soft lines. Despite his physical resemblance to his friendly, unassuming parents, he could not be less similar to them in personality. For one thing, he possessed a strong sense of humour that escaped them, or so it seemed to Scorpius, who had visited Simon's house several times and seen the puzzled looks the elder Longbottoms exchanged whenever their son made a joke about... well, anything, really. Scorpius liked Simon's parents well enough, but they were hopelessly bland.

"Anyway," Simon said, resting his elbows on their table, "you were definitely staring at Rose again. Why're you still sulking over her, eh?"

"I'm not sulking," Scorpius snapped, flicking his wand a little too sharply at his gerbil. It collapsed with a tiny _thump_. "Shit! You prick, you've made me kill my gerbil! Smith's going to give me another detention now, just you watch..."

Simon leaned over to examine the gerbil. "It's not dead," was his verdict. He revived the gerbil with a wave of his wand. "Stop denying the truth, mate. You always talk about her. You stare at her during meals when you think no one's looking. Hell, you've still got her bloody picture on your bedside table! What's the deal? I thought you were over her."

"I _am_."

Simon clucked his tongue in a way that made Scorpius want to punch him in the face. "Y'know, your dad probably wouldn't be too chuffed if he knew how obsessed you are with her."

Scorpius glowered. "I don't care what Father thinks."

It was true. As much as Scorpius loved his father, the man drove him mad sometimes with his refusal to give up his old grudges. _I've already sacrificed enough of the beliefs with which I was raised for the sake of progression,_ he always told Scorpius, before launching into a long-winded speech that essentially criticised Scorpius's choice of companions and interests. _I just want the best for you,_ was usually his excuse. Scorpius _knew_ that; he just wished his father could understand that their ideas of "best" were polar opposites.

"You probably should," Simon said wisely.

"I 'probably should' do a lot of things, like Transfigure this stupid –"

"Time's up!" called Professor Smith from the front of the room, clapping her hands. "Miss Gillen, if you would please collect the assignments for me... All partially Transfigured gerbils may go in this bin..."

Scorpius snatched up his now-slumbering gerbil and Transfigured it into a perfect tartan slipper with a quick flick of his wand. He handed it over to Maggie Gillen just as she passed by, and then hurried to catch up with Simon, who was already filing out of the classroom with everyone else.

"You don't deserve the brains you've got," Simon complained when Scorpius joined him.

Scorpius snickered. As they passed the front row, he noticed a notebook sitting on the second seat to his left. He bent over and picked it up without stopping.

"What's that?" Simon asked, as they began making their way to the dungeons for Potions.

"Dunno." Scorpius flipped the notebook open and checked the inside cover. He raised his eyebrows when he saw _Albus Severus Potter_ printed neatly in the lower left-hand corner. "Looks like it's Potter's. Wonder what he wrote in it?"

"Probably notes," Simon said, shrugging. He checked his watch and sighed. "Remind me again who was cruel enough to put lunch after Potions? Measuring out newt's eyes and watching Slughorn waddle around the room are real appetite killers."

"Hey, these aren't notes!"

"Huh? Oh, well, you ought to return the notebook to Potter, then. Might be a private journal or something."

"He's got a list of names here," Scorpius said, frowning as he scanned one of the pages in the middle of the notebook. "Ezra Thomas, Maggie Gillen... Aiden Cotton... Scor – Scorpius Malfoy? Simon, my name's in here!"

Simon was unperturbed. "Relax, Scorpius. It's probably just his fuck list or something."

"His _what_?"

"A list of people he wants to... y'know." Simon made a vaguely obscene gesture and raised his eyebrows at Scorpius. "I still can't believe you and Rose never got that far. Four months... that's a long time to stay celibate."

"Half of it was over the summer," Scorpius reminded Simon. "And can we not talk about Rose right now? How about we focus on the fact that Albus Potter wants to _fuck_ me?"

"I didn't say that," Simon said patiently. "I said it's a possibility. I might be your only friend" – he dodged Scorpius's poorly aimed shove – "but you're not a bad-looking bloke. I wouldn't be surprised if there were others who wouldn't say no to sleeping with you."

Scorpius felt his cheeks heat up. "Seriously? Who? They're not all like Potter, are they?"

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Simon shook his head. "As far as I know, none of the other blokes in our year swing both ways. If they do, they haven't got the guts to admit it. Don't blame them, really – not everyone's got a famous name to protect their reputation." He pointed down the hall. "Potter's over there, by the way. You'd better give that notebook back to him before he realises it's missing."

Scorpius was sorely tempted to keep the notebook until he had time to peruse the pages he'd skipped, but he knew Simon was right. "See you in class."

Scorpius shut the notebook and jogged over to Potter, who was, to Scorpius's surprise, alone. Usually, when Scorpius saw him in the hallways, he was either tailed by his fanclub or flanked by his seventh year friends.

"Hey, Potter! Hold up!"

Potter halted and turned around. Scorpius froze momentarily as a pair of startling green eyes pinned him with a blank look.

"Something wrong, Malfoy?"

"Er... no." Scorpius held up the notebook. "Only meant to tell you that you dropped this."

Potter's reaction was instantaneous. His eyes widened beneath his long fringe and he snatched the notebook from Scorpius's hand so quickly it took Scorpius all of five seconds to realise he was no longer holding it.

"Did you read it?" Potter demanded, a hard edge to his normally quiet, solemn voice.

"There's no need to be testy," Scorpius said huffily. "No, I didn't read it. I noticed you left it on your seat in Transfiguration, so I picked it up and brought it to you."

The tension left Potter's stance. "Sorry," he said, flashing a small smile that didn't quite mitigate Scorpius's indignation. "The notebook's important to me. Thanks for bringing it back."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should mind your things better next time," Scorpius muttered.

Scorpius pushed past Potter and headed for the dungeons. Before he could get out of arm's reach, however, Potter grabbed his wrist, forcing him to stop.

"What's your deal, Potter?"

"Why don't we walk down together?"

"Simon's waiting for me."

"He already went down; I saw him."

Scorpius ground his teeth together. He couldn't very well say no when they had their next class together. "Fine."

"Do you dislike me or something?" Potter asked as they descended the stairs.

"Or something."

Potter's laugh was dry and contained. It suited him well. "You've got a sense of humour."

"Very perceptive. Why're you talking to me, Potter?"

_Because he wants to fuck you._

Scorpius blushed, bothered that the thought didn't repel him as much as it should. He had a feeling that the absence of disgust in his reaction to the idea of sleeping with Potter wasn't exactly normal for a strictly straight bloke.

"Is there a reason why I shouldn't talk to you?" Potter asked.

"You're in Slytherin. I'm in Ravenclaw. We run in different circles."

Potter snorted. "Who told you that one? Your dad?"

Scorpius scowled. "It's an unspoken rule."

"It's obviously not, seeing as we're speaking right now."

"Just because _you_ don't follow the rules doesn't mean the rest of us shouldn't."

They slowed down as they approached the classroom.

"Who says I don't follow the rules?" said Potter, stopping just outside the door.

Scorpius made a point of glancing at his watch. "We're late, so..."

He stepped around Potter and opened the door. Class had already begun, but Professor Slughorn paused in the middle of his lecture, giving the students already seated time to glare accusingly at the newcomers.

"Mr Malfoy!" Slughorn announced, as if introducing a rare specimen to a crowd of curious onlookers. "How generous of you to finally... ah, hello, Mr Potter."

All eyes flicked from Scorpius to Potter, who had just entered the room. A few students exchanged confused looks. Although it was common practice for Scorpius to come to class late, Potter almost always arrived on time.

"Take your seats, boys," Slughorn said. "You'll be partners for today."

Potter nodded and headed for the only empty table in the front row. Scorpius, however, remained rooted to his spot.

"Sorry, Professor, but what do you mean?"

Slughorn pursed his lips, his expression disapproving. "I believe the meaning was quite clear. We'll be pairing up to brew Ageing Potion today, and –"

"But why've I got to pair up with Potter?"

Scorpius knew he was pushing the limits of Slughorn's patience. The old man had never liked him much – for all of Scorpius's scholastic accomplishments in Potions (and there were many of them), Slughorn still considered him merely a junior version of his troublemaking father.

Slughorn folded his arms and rested them atop his expansive belly. "Mr Malfoy, sit down, or it will be ten points from Ravenclaw."

"Fine, fine," Scorpius grumbled

He walked over to Potter's table and dropped into the seat beside him. The moment Slughorn resumed his lecture, Scorpius glanced over his shoulder and caught Simon's eye from across the room. Simon scowled and jerked his chin at his partner: Carly Nott, Hufflepuff, known for her stringy hair, prominent overbite, and record of cocking up every sixth-year Potions assignment so far. How she had achieved the required O.W.L. score to continue with N.E.W.T. level Potions, no one knew, but avoiding her was an unspoken classroom rule.

Biting back a smirk, Scorpius shrugged helplessly at Simon before turning to Potter and whispering, "What did he say we were brewing today?"

"Why don't you pay attention for once?" Potter replied, his lips barely moving as his quill flew across the page of his notebook, copying down the instructions on the blackboard.

"You're doing such a good job of it that there's really no point."

Potter finished scribbling and put his quill down. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"How do you manage to get perfect marks if you never make an effort?"

"I do."

"No you don't. I've seen you. You slack off all class, and then whip up a perfect assignment at the very last minute."

"I wasn't aware that you watched me so closely, Potter."

A fat hand slammed down on their table, cutting off Potter's reply. Scorpius could have sworn he saw the scrubbed wood surface crack a little under the force of impact.

"Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter, five points from your respective Houses for disrupting class again!" Slughorn said.

Groans and muttered "not _again_"s from the Ravenclaws filled the room.

"It's not his fault," Potter protested. "I was distracting him. Take the points from Slytherin, Professor."

The room fell silent. Scorpius laughed nervously.

"Ignore him, Professor. He's clearly delusional."

"Shut it, Malfoy, you've already lost enough points for your House."

"Ravenclaw's House points are none of your business!"

Slughorn's hefty moustache twitched in confusion as his eyes volleyed back and forth between Scorpius and Potter. At last he cleared his throat and waddled back to the front of the room.

"You may now begin," he said, apparently having decided that docking points for their misbehaviour wasn't worth the effort.

"You're mental," Scorpius declared, raising his voice to be heard above the sound of chairs scraping against the stone floor and students fighting to get to the ingredients cabinet first. "I'm not sure I want to work with you anymore."

Potter merely grinned at him and left to go gather the necessary ingredients.

"It's the Gryffindors we're supposed to avoid," he said when he returned with an armful of jars, boxes, and bundles.

Scorpius looked up from the cauldron he was tending to. "Sorry?"

"Slytherins and Gryffindors – historically, we don't get along." Potter shrugged and began arranging the ingredients in the order in which they would be needed. "Really, I don't have a problem with any of the Houses. I've got friends in all of them."

"Even Ravenclaw?"

"We get along with Ravenclaws the best."

"Who –?"

"Weina Corner. You know her?"

"She's a year below us, isn't she?"

"Yeah. She's my girlfriend."

Scorpius nearly dropped his wand into the cauldron. "She's _what_?"

"We're going out." Frowning, Potter turned a kidney-shaped object over in his hand. "What d'you reckon this is?"

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend."

"Does it matter?" Potter asked, fixing Scorpius with his solemn gaze.

Scorpius felt a blush start to creep up his face, and immediately crouched down to check the flames under the cauldron. "No. I just thought – I mean, I didn't know that –"

"That I like girls?" Potter offered.

Scorpius straightened up. "Yeah, I guess."

He ventured a look at Potter, but he was laying out jars, his head bent so that his shaggy black hair obscured most of his profile. "They're not too bad. Weina's pretty cool."

"Oh. But you do... um, y'know, with blokes?"

Potter laughed. "Yeah. Sometimes. Not lately, obviously."

"What's it like?" Scorpius blurted out. He blushed again – _damn_ his genes – and picked up the ginger roots Potter had placed on the table. He needed to give his fidgety hands something to do.

"Why d'you want to know?"

Scorpius sliced the roots rapidly, keeping his attention locked on the chopping board. "Never mind. It was a stupid question."

He dumped the roots into the cauldron and reached for the essence of belladonna, but Potter snatched the bottle up first and held it behind his back. "It's a lot better than being with a girl. Boys are more forward. They know what they want and they're not going to beat around the bush, figuratively speaking. I mean, they've no need for the frilly stuff."

An image of Potter dressed in a lacy negligee immediately popped into Scorpius's head, and he blinked to clear it away. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know more about the girls Potter had slept with.

"Okay," he said, "but I really need that bottle right now."

"The textbook says you're supposed to add –"

"The box elder sap, I know, but we can skip two steps ahead if we use the belladonna instead. Trust me, Potter."

Potter handed the bottle over. "All right, you're the Potions expert."

Scorpius measured the correct amount of essence of belladonna and added it to the boiling contents of their cauldron. As he bent to check his textbook for the next step, he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that Potter was staring at him intently.

"What?" he asked, looking up.

"Nothing. I was just thinking... you really are good at Potions, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I suppose. Can you crush the laurel berries?"

Potter gathered the red berries into a neat pile on his cutting board. "You should learn to appreciate what you've got," he remarked as he rummaged around in his Potions kit for a knife. "It'd be a right shame if you let your brains go to waste. Most people would kill to have them."

"I highly doubt that, Potter."

"Easy for you to say. You've never known what it's like to be anything but a genius."

The note of bitterness in Potter's voice surprised Scorpius. He had never pegged Potter as someone who'd be susceptible to something as petty and pointless as bitterness.

"You're not stupid," Scorpius said, for lack of anything better to say.

Potter snorted and pressed down so hard on a berry that the juice splattered onto his face. Grimacing, he swiped at his cheeks with the back of his hand, leaving red smears across his freckled skin.

"No, don't do that!" Scorpius half-shouted when Potter stuck out his tongue to lick the juice off his lips. Potter blinked at him. Flustered, Scorpius tossed him the clean rag from his Potions kit. "The berries are poisonous to humans."

Shooting Scorpius a grateful look, Potter took the rag and used it to wipe off his lips before handing it back. "Thanks."

Scorpius stuffed the rag into his Potions kit with a grunt of acknowledgment. Normally, if it had been Simon who had messed up, Scorpius would have teased him mercilessly, but with Potter, Scorpius didn't know what to say. He returned to grounding dried doxy droppings with more vigour.

"I'm not stupid," Potter said after a while, "but I'm not like you. You probably got all O's on your O.W.L.s without studying a single page of notes. My best marks were E's in Charms and Herbology. Hardly impressive, considering I was named after two headmasters of this school." He paused. "Dad even had to come in and talk to Professor McGonagall about letting me continue Defence Against the Dark Arts. I told him not to, but..."

"Why Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

Potter perked up a little. "I want to be an Auror."

"Yeah?" Scorpius said sceptically. He had never heard of a Slytherin Auror.

"Mm. My dad's one, you know."

"No, I had no idea. He only saved the world once or twice."

"Yeah, Dad's brilliant," Al enthused, completely oblivious to Scorpius's sarcasm. "The problem is everyone reckons I'm trying to be a junior version of him, especially since I look so much like him. He was a Seeker at school, too. That, plus the Auror thing... It's just annoying when adults tell me to find my own identity, because _this is me_. I want to be great. What's so bad about that?"

Shrugging, Scorpius scooped the juice Potter had extracted from the berries into the cauldron. In truth, he agreed with the adults. No one had ever told _him_ to find his own identity, even though he too resembled his father. If Potter was tired of the comparisons, he just needed to make it clear that he and his dad were different people. However, Scorpius refrained from voicing these thoughts. Potter rarely said so much at once, and Scorpius didn't want to discourage him from continuing.

"Anyway, how's the potion going?"

Scorpius stepped back to let Potter have a look at the silvery blue contents of the cauldron. "As well as it can at this stage."

Potter looked impressed. "We're ahead of everyone else. You're really good at this!"

Scorpius was surprised by how much the simple compliment pleased him. "Potter –"

"Al. All my friends call me Al."

_Al._ It was a common name – too short, too unobtrusive, too insignificant for someone like Albus Potter. Scorpius was certain there were multiple layers to Potter that a nickname like Al couldn't do justice to, but if that was what he wanted, then so be it.

"Al, then. Get to work on step six, will you?"

The rest of the double period passed quickly. Though Al had absolutely no finesse or intuition when it came to potion making, he was a good partner. He followed Scorpius's directions faithfully, but he wasn't too afraid to point out the careless errors that slipped past Scorpius's notice.

That Al was a good conversationalist surprised Scorpius. He told stories with clarity and enthusiasm, and managed to keep Scorpius thoroughly entertained over the next hour. There was a quiet charisma about him that became evident when he spoke about subjects that mattered to him: Quidditch, his family, and school, among other things. For the first time, Scorpius understood why Al was the popular Potter child. It had nothing to do with fame or family history, or even his uncanny resemblance to his father. It was all in the way he effortlessly drew attention to himself, even when he was being his usual silent, surly self. He had so much self-control that it was a hard to believe he wasn't a prefect.

Scorpius had never envied someone more. But for all his jealousy, he also found himself drawn to Al. He wanted to uncover Al's imperfections, the parts of him that no one but his closest friends knew about, because there was no way the confidence he exuded was impenetrable. The brief slip in Al's composure earlier in the hallway was proof that he had vulnerable spots. Scorpius was sure of it. He watched Al like a hawk, hoping – but failing – to locate these spots, until eventually it occurred to him that he was only watching Al because he couldn't tear his eyes away from him.

That was when Scorpius realised something was wrong.

He tried to focus on anything, anyone else, but Rose wasn't there, and Simon was on the other side of the room. Every time Al said something, Scorpius's attention snapped back to him quickly, as if it had never struggled to stay away. Eventually Scorpius gave up resisting and resorted to sneaking peeks at Al between adding ingredients to their potion.

By the time Al went to turn in a phial of perfectly concocted Ageing Potion labelled with his and Scorpius's names, Scorpius was starting to question his own sexuality.

"I'm fucked," he announced after bidding a quick good-bye to Potter and dashing across the classroom to meet Simon halfway.

"Really? How'd he do it so discreetly?"

"What do you – oh, Christ, Simon, that's disgusting. Leave off, this is serious!"

"Shame, half the school probably would've paid to see you and Potter get it on in public."

"_Simon_, he'll hear you," Scorpius hissed. He cast a nervous glance over his shoulder, but Al had left the classroom. "Great, he's gone. Let's get out of here."

They walked outside, Simon complaining the entire way about Carly Nott.

"...she didn't even realise you can't cut those, so of course we had to go ask Slughorn for another pair. I swear; that girl is common sense's worst enemy. We'll be lucky to get a P on our assignment."

"Shit, there he is!"

Scorpius tugged Simon out of sight. They peered around the corner and saw Al standing a few feet down the hallway with his girlfriend, Weina Corner. Al whispered something and she laughed, tilting her head back, exposing the graceful arch of her neck.

Scorpius and Simon continued to watch as Al leaned down and kissed Weina on the lips. She responded by curling an arm around his neck and tugging him closer, so that his body was pinning hers to the wall. Al braced himself against the wall with one hand and tangled the other in Weina's thick, dark hair, deepening the kiss.

Scorpius felt a sickening sensation in the pit of his stomach. "That's indecent," he said, tearing his eyes away and turning so that the couple was out of view. "Who knows where Al's lips have been?"

"Oh, it's _Al_ now, is it?"

"He told me to call him that. C'mon, let's go to lunch. I'm starving."

--

"You going to Hogsmeade this weekend, Simon?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Reckon so. How about you, Scorpius?"

Scorpius, who had not been paying attention to the conversation between Simon and their housemate, Ettore, looked up from his scrambled eggs, surprised to be addressed. Other students rarely spoke to him unless they needed to. Simon was the popular one; he was the Malfoy.

"Er, yeah. Sunday, right?"

Ettore nodded. "You two wanna come with me and some of the Gryffindors? We're thinking of breaking into the Shrieking Shack. Rumour has it that Harry Potter's part-werewolf godson lives there."

"Seriously?" Scorpius said, making a mental note to ask Al about that later. Then he did a double-take – he had just thought of Al as a friend he could approach as easily as he did with Simon. They hadn't even spoken to each other since the previous week's Potions class, and Scorpius doubted they ever would. _Get over it,_ he ordered himself.

"Nah, we're good," Simon said. "Dad wants me to meet up with him at the Three Broomsticks."

"Aw, c'mon, mate. You can't hang out with your dad on a weekend! Where's your sense of adventure, eh? Scorpius, tell him he's being a nance."

Scorpius stabbed at a sausage on his plate. "You're being a nance, Simon," he mumbled.

Just then, the morning post arrived. Scorpius looked up automatically. Sure enough, his eagle owl, Artemis, came swooping down with a neatly wrapped package of sweets from his grandmother. Scorpius relieved Artemis of her load and fed her a piece of pastry before letting her fly off to the Owlery. He checked the package she had delivered to him. There was a letter from his mother attached.

Scorpius sighed. His parents must have got into another argument – Mother rarely wrote him unless Father had done something to upset her. Scorpius was the only one who knew that his parents were far from happily married. Over the years, he had become something of a long-distance marriage counsellor to them. Sometimes he wished they would just forget about their pride and file for a divorce, but he knew they would not admit defeat until they were literally at each other's throats. Until that day came, he would have to deal with mediating their fights.

"Thanks," Simon said cheerfully, accepting the peanut brittle Scorpius handed him. It was a daily morning ritual: Scorpius always gave Simon the peanut brittle and, whenever it was included, the liquorice. "You're lucky your grandmum's so good about sending these."

"Yeah, it was cool when I was eleven, but I'm almost seventeen now," Scorpius pointed out.

"You're never too old for sugar," Simon scolded. He bit into the peanut brittle. "Speaking of, you up for Honeydukes this Sunday? Maybe we'll see Rose there again."

"Mm," Scorpius said absently, for he had just noticed Al stand up and start walking towards the Ravenclaw table. He tensed, but Al strode right past him and headed for Weina, who was sitting at the other end of the long table with the rest of the fifth-year girls.

Scorpius squashed the disappointment that welled up inside him and turned his attention back to Simon. He wasn't sure he could stomach another nauseating display of affection between the two of them while he was eating. "Sorry, what'd you say?"

"Well, well, well. If I'd known it'd only take a double period with Potter for you to get over Rose, I wouldn't have waited so long to suffer the indignity of working with Carly."

Scorpius glared at Simon. "You'll be begging her to take you back as a Potions partner if you utter a single word about me eyeing up Potter."

Eyes widening in alarm, Simon held up his hands in surrender. "All right, I got it. Hey, I just realised something – can I make a move on Rose now that you've given her up?"

"_Simon_ –"

"Hey, Scorpius."

The sound of Al's voice behind him made Scorpius freeze in the middle of drawing his arm back to throw a roll at Simon.

"Hi," he said, dropping the roll and turning around in his seat. Weina was with Al, but they were not holding hands.

"This is my girlfriend," Al said, jerking his chin at Weina.

Weina was very pretty up close, but it was Al from whom Scorpius had to tear his eyes away. "I know."

Weina held out a hand. She had very delicate fingers and well-manicured fingers, Scorpius noticed. "I don't think we've ever formally met. I'm Weina."

Scorpius shook her hand. "Scorpius."

"How've you been doing?" Al asked Scorpius. "I haven't seen you around much. Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

"Yeah." Scorpius looked back and forth between Al and Weina. "I suppose you two are as well?"

They nodded at the same time. "We'd better get going, then," said Weina, wrapping her fingers around Al's arm and tugging him after her.

"Yeah, see you in Herbology, Scorpius." Was it just Scorpius's imagination, or did Al look upset about their conversation being cut off short?

The couple left and Scorpius exhaled. "I'd better go. See you, Simon."

He slung his bag over his shoulder and left the Ravenclaw table. As he headed for the greenhouses, he reluctantly opened and read the letter his mother had sent him. It contained nothing surprising: Father had called her a frigid, antisocial bitch when she refused to let him host another get-together at their manor, and she in turn had yelled at him for caring more about his colleagues than her, an accusation he had not denied. Tears and insults ensued, and now they'd gone back to sleeping in separate beds.

Scorpius rolled his eyes, refolded the letter, and tucked it into his back pocket. It was times like these that he wondered what it'd be like to have a normal family with parents who took care of _him_, rather than the other way around. Not that he felt any bitterness about his family situation, because he didn't. His father and mother were people, too; they just had more problems than the average adults. Besides, they both loved him, so he couldn't complain.

As he stepped outside, he noticed two red-haired girls sitting under a nearby willow tree: Rose and Al's sister, Lily Potter.

"Rose!" he called out. He was relieved to find that butterflies did not erupt in his stomach when he caught her eye. Maybe Simon was right – maybe he _was_ starting to get over Rose.

_It has nothing to do with Al, though,_ he told himself fiercely.

Rose motioned him over. Scorpius checked his watch. Class had already started, but there was no harm in being a few minutes late for Herbology. Professor Longbottom had a soft spot for any friends of his son.

Scorpius jogged over to the girls, the frosted grass crunching under his feet. "What's up?" he said, crouching down so that he was level with them.

Rose scooted forwards and hugged Scorpius. Her prefect badge gleamed in the morning sunshine. "Hi, Scorpius. You know Lily, right?"

"Yeah. Hi."

Lily smiled at him. She was cute, Scorpius supposed. She had Al's freckles and pale complexion, but she looked more like her other older brother, James. A red and gold ribbon held her long hair back, and her school robes hung open, revealing a partly unbuttoned blouse that exposed her nonexistent cleavage. Scorpius wondered how she hadn't frozen to death yet.

"Listen, Rose, I've got to get to class, but I'll talk to you later, all right?"

Rose grabbed Scorpius's sleeve. "Hang on. Are you free for Quidditch tomorrow? I want to practise as much as possible before everyone goes their separate ways for winter break. Don't forget, we play Slytherin right after we come back. So far it looks like they've got a pretty impressive line-up this season."

"Sure," Scorpius said. He and Rose were both on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Rose was a Chaser and he a Beater, but they were both capable of playing other positions, so they usually practised together when their entire team couldn't meet. The one-on-one games they played every week had been largely responsible for preserving their friendship after they broke up at the end of September.

Rose released his sleeve. "At four, then?"

"Done. See you later."

"Bye, Scorpius," Lily called out as he hurried away.

Surprised, Scorpius waved at her over his shoulder. He saw Rose nudge Lily in the side and whisper something into her ear, but before he could dwell on it, he arrived at greenhouse four. He threw open the door and made a beeline for the nearest seat.

Professor Longbottom was, as always, dressed in dirt-stained robes and wearing a pair of earmuffs around his neck. "Good morning, Scorpius," he said pleasantly. "Need I explain the concept of punctuality to you again?"

"No, sir, forty-eight times is sufficient."

Professor Longbottom sighed. "I'm glad to know you're keeping count, even if you're not taking the reprimand to heart. One more time and it'll be detention, Scorpius." He turned back to the rest of the class. "As I was saying, today we'll be discussing the changes certain magical plants undergo as the winter season approaches. If everyone could please turn to page five hundred and ninety-six, you'll see an illustration of..."

Scorpius zoned out as Professor Longbottom began describing the state of hibernation Flitterbloom bushes entered around the end of November. It was going to be a long class; he could already tell. He let his gaze roam the greenhouse lazily until it landed on Al, sitting a few seats away. As if he could feel Scorpius's eyes on him, Al looked up from his textbook and smiled at Scorpius.

Scorpius dropped his gaze. Perhaps "long" was an understatement.

--

"You didn't tell me Al was going to be here."

Rose cocked her head. "Does it matter? He's just practising with his team. Let's sit down and watch until they're done. Maybe we can steal some of their strategies."

Sighing, Scorpius followed Rose into the stands. It was a cold, breezy afternoon, but the persistent sunshine had warmed the benches. He glanced at Rose as they sat down. Normally at this point his insides would be squirming uncomfortably, but today he felt no different than he would have if he'd been going out to fly with Simon.

"You look nice today," he said, tugging her long pleat affectionately.

She smiled at him. "Thanks. You do too, but when do you not?"

"Yeah, well, like Father says, a Malfoy must be presentable at all hours of the day."

"Are you still not getting on well with him?"

Scorpius leaned back against the bench behind them and gazed up at the green-robed players circling the pitch, trying to locate Al. "He'll never change."

"I suppose not. Still, he didn't kill you when he found out about us... that's an improvement, don't you think?" Rose paused, as if waiting for an answer, but Scorpius remained silent. "You really ought to give him a chance, Scorpius. He loves you, and he's not a bad person. Dad even agrees, even though he'll never say it out loud."

"Look, there's Al," Scorpius said, pointing up at the lone figure doing figure eights above the other players. He didn't want to talk about his father – not with Rose, not with anyone. He was in too good of a mood to dampen it with that kind of discussion.

They sat side by side in silence and watched Al for the next few minutes. He continued to loop around the pitch, every dive clean and sharp, every turn perfectly executed. It was clear, even from a distance, that he knew what he was doing on a broom.

"I'm beginning to think he's inhuman," Scorpius said after a while.

"Al?" Rose laughed. "Why do you say that?"

"It's almost like he's perfect. He never argues with anyone. He's a Quidditch star. Everyone loves him. And he doesn't even have to try."

Rose shook her head. "Scorpius, with all due respect, you know nothing about Al. It's all about practise and effort for him, even with Quidditch. I remember when I was five, we went to his place for Christmas dinner. It was below freezing and snowing like nobody's business, but Al skipped hot chocolate by the fireplace to go outside and practise because he'd forgotten to earlier."

"That's ridiculous."

"It is. He's not nearly as calm and sensible as he lets on, either. He'll do everything in his power to get something he wants, even if it's beyond his reach. What's more, he's incapable of half-arsing things. If you try to stop him short of perfection, he can get downright nasty. Mum told me that one time he broke one of James's ribs in a fist fight just because James told him he'd never be an Auror." Rose sighed and tugged her robes tighter around her. "He's learned over time to tone it down in front of other people. Even so, his friends don't know him at all. Mind you, they think they do, and I don't blame them. Al's got this way of talking to you like he has nothing to hide. That's probably why everyone likes him so much."

For a while, Scorpius remained silent; he was stunned by this new information. Sure, he had been curious about Al's weak spots, but he had never once thought that Al might be hiding a completely different person beneath his unruffled exterior.

"I love him, though," Rose said, breaking the silence. "He's my favourite cousin."

"Really? What about Lily?"

"Oh, Lils is great, but she and I don't have that much in common. Well, except for our taste in men. She's developed a bit of a crush on you."

"_What?_" Scorpius squawked.

"Mhm. We Weasleys seem to have a thing for you."

"It's just the two of you," Scorpius said, confused.

"Right," Rose said, a little too quickly. "Oh, look, they're finished. They must've noticed us watching. Bollocks, I should've paid closer attention to their offensive plays." She stood up and dusted off her robes. "Come on, let's go down and say hi to Al."

"That's really not necessary," Scorpius protested, but he let Rose haul him to his feet. "What did you mean, by the way, about having the same taste in men as Lily?" he asked as they walked down to the pitch, brooms in hand.

"Oh, nothing." Rose must have correctly interpreted the expression on Scorpius's face, because she added, "I mean it, Scorpius. I'm over you." She punched his shoulder lightly. "It was fun while it lasted, but I like you a lot more as a friend than a boyfriend. Honestly, four months, and you only kissed me once."

"I'd have done it more if you'd asked me to!"

Rose rolled her eyes. "You really ought to ask Simon for some relationship pointers. I think you'd do well to learn what they entail before you enter your next one."

"What're you two bickering about?"

Both Scorpius and Rose turned to face Al, who had left his teammates and walked over to them.

"Good job out there, Al," Rose said. "We were just discussing Scorpius's shortcomings as a boyfriend."

"Oh?"

"I don't know what she's going on about," Scorpius muttered. His eyes unwillingly travelled up and down the length of Al's body, and he swallowed. Al looked too good for comfort in his Quidditch gear. "So, um, are you done for the day?"

Al raised his eyebrows just the slightest, but the gesture was enough to get the message across: the once-over Scorpius had given him had not gone unnoticed. "I was, but I'll join you two if you'd like."

"You don't need to –"

"That would be great," Rose interrupted, beaming at her cousin. She swung a leg over her broom and kicked off. "Come on, let's go!"

They played for an hour, tossing the Quaffle back and forth and switching positions every few minutes. It quickly became evident to Scorpius that Rose was right about Al not being a natural flier. His movements were flawless, no doubt, but it was a practised, polished sort of excellence that held none of the natural flying instinct his father was known for. As for the game itself, Al was not nearly as talented of a player when he wasn't Seeking, but he held his own against Scorpius and Rose, both of whom were average fliers but had more experience playing the other Quidditch positions.

By the time six thirty rolled around, the sun was beginning to set and the wind had picked up, so they decided to call it a day.

"You're a brilliant Seeker," Scorpius remarked as they made their way back to the castle. He adjusted his broom on his shoulder and cast a sidelong glance at Al. They had fallen several steps behind Rose, but Al didn't seem to be in any hurry to catch up.

"Thanks," Al said. He smiled, showing a dimple in his right cheek, and Scorpius couldn't help wondering how he could possibly be the person Rose had described earlier. This Al was so relaxed, so collected, so... self-assured.

They walked on in silence as night fell swiftly around them. The temperature was falling fast, and Scorpius couldn't keep his teeth from chattering audibly.

"You cold?"

Scorpius winced. He hated it when people fussed over him. "Rose tells me you used to fly a lot when you were a kid."

"Hey," Al said, placing a gloved hand on Scorpius's shoulder and stopping him, "there's no need to play it cool. Here..." quick as a flash, he unwrapped his scarf and tossed it at Scorpius, who caught it without thinking, "...take this."

"It's fine," Scorpius protested. He tried to give it back to Al, but Al shook his head. "I don't need it," Scorpius muttered, but he didn't make another attempt to return the scarf. Instead, he tightened his fingers around the thick, scratchy wool and examined it.

It was grey and green striped, and bore all the signs of a hand-knitted article of clothing. The material was still warm in places from Al's body heat. Scorpius was suddenly seized by the absurd urge to bury his face in it and find out what it smelled like. The moment the thought crossed his mind, he had to bite back a groan. What was _wrong_ with him?

"D'you like Seeking?" he asked hurriedly.

"Yeah, it's great. Why?"

"Wish I was a Seeker," Scorpius sighed. Then, because Al was watching him expectantly, he wrapped the scarf loosely around his neck. He made sure to tilt his chin up to avoid smelling it. "You get to be the centre of attention. Everything rests on your shoulders."

"Is that why you want to be a Seeker?"

"Pretty much. Beating's fun, but no one really cares what the Beaters do."

"That's not true. Goyle and Kipps have saved my arse more times than I can count. _I_ sure as hell care what they do. They're the best Beaters in Hogwarts; they deserve far more credit than you're giving them."

"Hardly the best," Scorpius said with a snort. "'Adequate' would be a better word. Macmillan and I are more than a match for them."

"Oh? That sounds like the makings of a bet, if you ask me."

Scorpius scoffed. "I don't need a stupid bet to prove that my Beating team trumps yours."

"So in other words, you're scared."

"As if I'd be scared by the likes of you!"

"Then bet on it. C'mon, Scorpius, stop being so uptight."

"_Uptight?_" Scorpius repeated, outraged. "You – you with all your aloof – the way you – _you're_ telling me to stop being uptight?"

Al crossed his arms and leaned against the railing of the staircase behind him. He looked like he was enjoying watching Scorpius lose his temper. "Well?"

"No," Scorpius said, sniffing.

Al uncrossed his arms. "Too bad. And here I was, thinking everything was going so well..."

Scorpius blinked. "Eh?"

"Nothing."

"Don't whinge if you're not going to tell me. What do you mean?"

"Fine. Come here."

Sighing, Scorpius took a small step forwards and let out a sound of surprise when Al grabbed his wrist and jerked him closer.

"I was under the impression that you were flirting with me," Al whispered, his mouth a mere inch away from Scorpius's ear.

"_It's probably just his fuck list or something."_

Scorpius pushed Al away. "I wasn't," he said in a heated whisper. "I – I'm straight."

He glanced around nervously, but it didn't look like anyone in the hall was paying attention to their conversation. Even so, he took several steps sideways, putting a comfortable distance between him and Al.

Al reached out for his arm. "Scorpius –"

Scorpius twisted away. "You've got it wrong."

The amused glint in Al's eyes went out. "Fine. Sorry for assuming." He shoved his hands in his pockets, as if that was the only way he could keep them away from Scorpius. "One more thing. My dad's going to be at Hogsmeade this Sunday. He really wants to meet you."

Immediately, Scorpius's anger vanished. Had Al told his father about him? "Why?"

"Apparently your dad talks about you every time my dad drops by the apothecary."

"He does?" Scorpius said, dumbfounded. "What does he say?"

Al shrugged. "Why don't you come see Dad with me and ask him then? I mean, I know you might want to spend some time alone with your dad, but he and –"

"Wait, what?"

"Er..."

"Father's not coming to Hogsmeade."

Al frowned. "I could've sworn Dad said... well, never mind. I guess I heard wrong."

Scorpius's mind raced. If Father was going to be at Hogsmeade, why had he not mentioned it? A simple letter would have sufficed. Even though Scorpius had no desire to see his father, it still would have been nice to be informed ahead of people outside of the family. Or had Father been hoping to avoid him?

"In any case," Al said, looking uncomfortable, "you ought to come. Weina will be there, but I think she might leave early to go see some of her friends."

Scorpius forced himself to forget about his father for the moment. "I-I can't. I'm going to Hogsmeade with Simon."

"Then you can bring him along. He and Dad have met before, I think."

Scorpius looked away. "We've got other plans."

"Oh... all right."

Guilt twisted Scorpius's insides. An apology hovered on his tongue, but he couldn't say it. He didn't want to meet Al's eyes, didn't want to see the disappointment there.

Scorpius unwrapped the scarf and handed it to Al without looking at him. "Thanks for lending it to me."

Before Al could respond, he turned and hurried up the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

The weekend arrived in a flurry of snow. On Sunday morning, Scorpius and Simon shrugged on layer after layer of clothing until they could scarcely breathe and then waddled downstairs to join the other Ravenclaws going to Hogsmeade. They left the common room as a group and filed out onto the grounds with the rest of the Hogsmeade-bound students.

While he and Simon waited in line for an empty carriage, Scorpius surreptitiously surveyed the crowd around him, trying to spot Al. Unfortunately, before he could perform anything more thorough than a quick reconnaissance, Rose hurried over to them, her long hair loose and flying in the wind behind her like a veil.

"Hey," she said, skidding to a halt and beaming at them, her cheeks rosy from the cold.

"How's it going, Rose?" Simon said.

Scorpius rolled his eyes, noticing the cocky timbre in Simon's voice, the same tone he usually reserved for pulling girls. He had to hand it to Simon – he didn't waste any time.

"Great! I just wanted to say hi. I can't stay, sorry; I promised Lily and her friends I'd go with them."

She gestured at a group of girls standing near the end of the line. Lily – who was, once again, severely underdressed for the weather – happened to glance up at the exact moment Scorpius looked over. She waved enthusiastically at him, and Scorpius gave her a weak smile before turning his attention back to Rose.

"Have you seen Al?"

Rose raised her eyebrows so high that they disappeared beneath the knitted blue beanie pulled low over her forehead. "Yeah, he's near the front with Weina."

Scorpius stood up on his tiptoes and craned his neck. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the familiar head of messy black hair. Sure enough, Weina was standing next to Al. Scorpius fell back onto his heels.

"Why're you so eager to see Potter?"

Scorpius glanced at Simon and was surprised to find that Rose had returned to her friends while he'd been searching for Al. "I, er, said something unnecessary to him the other day and I wanted to apologise."

"Really?" Simon said as they inched closer the carriages. "What'd you say?"

"It was, um, about his Quidditch skills."

"So why don't you go?"

Scorpius started. "What?"

"You said you wanted to apologise. Why don't you go?"

"Er..."

To Scorpius's relief, the arrival of an empty carriage saved him from having to reply. He and Simon clambered in, and the subject was dropped. For the rest of the ride, however, Scorpius could feel Simon's unanswered question lurking beneath the surface of subsequent conversations like a gaping hole, waiting for Scorpius to let his guard down and fall in. There was no doubt about it: Simon _knew_.

The carriage ride took longer than usual. By the time Scorpius and Simon arrived at the station, they were eager to get out of the confined space. The moment their feet touched the cobblestoned street of Hogsmeade, Simon took off for the Three Broomsticks. "C'mon, Dad's waiting for us!" he called to Scorpius, who stumbled through the snow after him, yelling for him to slow down.

They reached the Three Broomsticks in record time, but at the expense of Scorpius's leather boots, which, while expensive and pretty, were utterly useless against winter weather. Not for the first time, Scorpius cursed his mother for not having the sense to buy him a sturdier pair.

"I think he's meeting with Mr Potter," Simon said, looking around the crowded pub for his father as they walked inside. "Oh, there he – hey, Scorpius, look! Your dad's with him!"

Scorpius's heart sunk. _The boots,_ he thought frantically. His eyes were already busy scanning the room for someone he knew who'd be willing to swap shoes with him when it occurred to him that Al had been right – his father _had_ come to Hogsmeade after all.

Feeling slightly indignant now, Scorpius followed Simon to the back of the pub where Professor Longbottom, Al's father, and Scorpius's father sat in a large booth, talking and nursing tankards of ale. A half-filled pitcher sat in the middle of the table, along with a chipped ashtray, into which Mr Potter was depositing ashes from the cigarette dangling between his fingers.

"Hi, Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter," Simon said. "Dad, you didn't tell me you'd be bringing guests."

Professor Longbottom had exchanged the tattered earmuffs he usually wore for a fluffier pair. "I came here to see Harry, but I wasn't expecting Draco. Here," he added, patting the empty spot beside him, "sit down. Is Scorpius with you?"

Up until this point, Scorpius had been hanging back, hoping no one would notice him (or his boots). Now, he fixed a smile onto his face, stepped forwards, and greeted Professor Longbottom with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He kept his eyes averted from his father.

"Good afternoon, Scorpius," came the inevitable greeting.

Scorpius reluctantly met his father's eyes. "Hi, Father," he intoned. His father was, as usual, dressed like he was on his way to a dinner party. He looked considerably less disdainful than he usually did in Professor Longbottom's presence, which Scorpius attributed to the influence of the ale.

"Nice to finally meet you, Scorpius," said a third voice, and Scorpius's eyes were drawn to person sitting beside his father: Harry Potter, whom Scorpius had never seen up close.

Mr Potter looked like an older, bespectacled version of Al. While they shared the same features, however, there was a more approachable, easy-going air about him. He smiled at Scorpius, and the laugh lines around his eyes crinkled.

"Hi," Scorpius said, feeling suddenly shy. He was hardly one to withdraw around adults, but Mr Potter was a _hero_, even if he didn't look the part. "Al told me you'd be here."

"Oh, did he?" Mr Potter said, looking pleased. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. "I'm meeting up with him later. I told him to invite you, but it looks like that won't be necessary." He jerked his thumb at Scorpius's father. "This one didn't tell me you'd be coming here so early."

"Funny, he didn't tell me he'd be coming _at all_."

Everyone at the table turned to look at Scorpius's father. He cleared his throat. "I wanted to surprise you."

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Professor Longbottom clapped his hands together. "Well, then, Scorpius, why don't you have a seat?"

Scorpius moved forwards to take the chair Professor Longbottom pulled up, but his father cleared his throat loudly.

"Actually, I need to get back to the apothecary. I'd like to speak to Scorpius in private before I go."

Mr Potter frowned. "Let him stay for a while, Malfoy."

"And leave him in the company of you and two Longbottoms?" Scorpius's father scoffed. "I would sooner donate the contents of my Gringotts vault to Muggle charities. Who knows what vile things you three will tell him once I'm gone?"

"Father, don't be stupid," Scorpius groaned.

"Ah, leave your dad alone, Scorpius. He can be a bit slow sometimes."

"_Slow?_ I'll have you know, Potter, that it takes a great deal of intelligence and insight to rise in the world of business like I've done! Unlike you, my job requires more than just the ability to grunt out a Stunning Spell every so often!"

"Oh, shut it, Malfoy," Mr Potter said, feigning a yawn. "Don't you want to set a good example for your son?"

Scorpius's father scowled. Scorpius crossed his arms and heaved an exasperated sigh. It was hard to believe he was watching two grown men interact. He was used to his father behaving like a child, but he had expected the hero of the wizarding world to at least act his age, if not with more maturity. He caught Simon's eye, and Simon grinned at him, apparently amused by the scene playing out before them.

"You two..." Professor Longbottom huffed.

"I'll be leaving, then," Scorpius's father said, standing up. He shot Potter a haughty glare and took Scorpius by the arm. "Come with me, Scorpius."

Scorpius shuffled his feet. "Be back in a bit," he muttered to the rest of the table, before following his father out of the pub.

"What happened to your boots?" his father asked, tutting once they were outside. "You must be cold. Why aren't you wearing the scarf your grandmother bought you?"

"The boots can't hold up against the snow, and the scarf couldn't protect me from a light breeze." Scorpius tugged his arm out of his father's grasp and looked around. It had started to snow lightly. Other students were huddled in small clumps on the sidewalks, laughing and sharing sweets from Honeydukes. Two young boys hovered by the door of Zonko's, waiting to bombard the next person to step out the store with the snowballs they were levitating over the doorway.

"You ought to take better care of your things, Scorpius." Scorpius didn't say anything. "I apologise for not informing you of my visit in advance. I really was going to surprise you at school."

"Again? It hasn't even been a month since your last visit, Father."

"There's nothing wrong with a father coming to check on his son every once in a while."

They began walking down the sidewalk towards the train station. "How are you, Scorpius?" his father continued. "How have you been doing in your studies? Your mother told me you never responded to her letter."

"I'm fine," Scorpius said shortly. Then, just because he knew it would annoy his father: "I've become friends with Mr Potter's son."

"Which one? The bisexual?"

Scorpius ground his teeth together. "Yeah, that one. He's an interesting person."

His father's disapproval was evident in the little crease that appeared between his pale eyebrows. "Well, as long as you don't get too close to him..."

"Why? What's wrong with getting close to him?"

"You don't want his sickness rubbing off on you," his father said, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

"It's not a sickness, Father. Al is a perfectly normal person."

"Nonsense. You have a responsibility to carry on the Malfoy name, Scorpius. Men can't bear children."

"Oh, I had _no_ idea."

The muscles in his father's jaw worked. Scorpius waited for him to calm down. He didn't take his father's temper seriously enough to let it scare him. He had learned as a child that no matter how angry his father was, he never actually carried out any of his threats.

"I only want the best for you, Scorpius," his father finally said, his nostrils flaring. "The ridicule you would receive if you were to be labelled a – a –"

"A poof?"

"Precisely! You can't have that sullying your reputation at school."

Sighing, Scorpius pushed his glasses up his nose. "Father, you know my reputation's already shot. I'm a Malfoy, remember? I'm not exactly at the top of anyone's get-to-know list."

His father looked concerned. "Don't be so pessimistic, Scorpius. Malfoys have historically crushed the competition when it comes to school popularity. You – you're good-looking enough; you could find a nice girlfriend. What about the Weasley girl?"

Scorpius snorted. "Don't tell me you're so worried about me turning gay that you actually want me to get back together with Rose."

The look on his father's face said it all.

"Look, Father, you don't need to lose sleep over this. Nothing's going to happen." _Yeah, right,_ said a doubtful voice in the back of Scorpius's mind. Scorpius looked down at his ruined boots. "You should be busy trying to reconcile with Mother."

"Scorpius, you needn't get involved with that. I don't know what your mother is thinking, unloading her petty troubles onto you..."

"Why won't the two of you just give up already? Divorce is perfectly normal these days. No one will judge you."

They ducked under the boughs of holly hanging from the archway to the train station and walked down to the end of the platform to wait for the arrival of the next train leaving Hogsmeade. Heavy clouds had gathered while they walked, and it was snowing more heavily now than before. Most of the people on the platform cradled miniature balls of fire in their hands for warmth. Scorpius's father rubbed his palms together and peered down the tracks.He looked irritated – no doubt he wore some expensive article of clothing to which the weather was currently doing irreparable damage.

"Well?" Scorpius prompted after a few minutes.

"There's nothing to discuss," his father said firmly. "The matter is between me and your mother. Your job is to focus on your schoolwork."

The sound of the approaching train brought an abrupt end to their conversation. Scorpius's father clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Scorpius, we'll work things out."

Scorpius shrugged off his father's hand. The window of opportunity for him to change his father's mind had closed, so he said no more on the subject of his parents' marriage. "Tell Mother I send my love."

"I will." His father took one step towards the train, then hesitated. "Potter told me there's a Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin soon."

Scorpius gave a noncommittal grunt. "It's not until after break."

There was a pained expression on his father's face, as if his next few words were clawing their way up his throat. "I... good luck. In advance. Be sure to practise hard. I'm sure you'll win."

With that, he hurried away to join the queue waiting to climb aboard the train, leaving Scorpius rooted to his spot, dumbfounded. His father must be a lot more determined to keep him and Al apart than he had originally thought, because he _never_ sided with Ravenclaw over Slytherin.

Scorpius shoved his hands deep into his pockets and watched his father board the train leaving Hogsmeade. He couldn't help feeling like a parent dropping his child off. He watched the train disappear down the bend, then turned around and began heading back to the Three Broomsticks.

The worsening weather conditions had chased shoppers off the streets, so the pub was even busier than before. Scorpius squeezed past thick cloaks that smelled of wet fur and weaved around overcrowded tables towards the booth in the back of the room. Everyone was still there when he arrived. His attention was immediately drawn to the seat his father had vacated earlier. Al sat there now, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of butterbeer. He paused in the middle of the animated conversation he'd been having with his father to smile at Scorpius, and Scorpius bit his lip, remembering how they had last parted.

"Everything go all right at the station?" Mr Potter asked. He waved a beaming Madam Rosmerta over and ordered another bottle of butterbeer. She produced one from the inner pocket of her apron and, waving aside Mr Potter's thanks, dashed over to a nearby table to attend to the ruddy-faced warlock there.

"Thank you," Scorpius said, taking the empty seat next to Professor Longbottom and popping the cap off the bottle. "Yeah, Father's on his way back right now. Why do you ask?"

A reminiscent gleam appeared in Mr Potter's eyes. He nudged up his glasses and leaned over the table, as if preparing to reveal top secret information to those gathered around it. Everyone shifted closer to him, their eyes wide and eager.

"Well," Mr Potter began, "to put it shortly, your father has an impressive history of causing mischief at train stations. I'll tell you, one time during my sixth year..."

--

Two hours later, Scorpius found himself walking away from the Three Broomsticks with Al by his side. Simon had gone back to the castle early with his father, and Mr Potter had insisted on walking to the train station alone. "Don't worry about me," he said when they parted ways. "The two of you should enjoy the rest of your day together. Oh, and Scorpius, do me a favour and tell Mal— er, I mean, your dad to stop procrastinating filling out the orders I placed for Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. It's not very professional of him."

"What's up with those two?" Scorpius muttered as he and Al wandered in the direction of the train station. By now the snow was falling thickly that Scorpius couldn't clearly see anything beyond a ten-foot radius, even with the Impervius Charm he had put on his glasses.

"If you mean our dads, who knows? Supposedly they hated each other back at school, but it looks like they're on friendly terms now."

"'Friendly' is a bit generous."

Al laughed, and Scorpius relaxed a little. There was no need to bring up the last time they'd seen each other if Al didn't hold a grudge.

"So, where's Weina?"

He said this casually, but his eyes were trained on Al's face, watching for his reaction. He was disappointed when Al gave him nothing more than a small smile.

"Dunno. Probably off with one of her girlfriends."

"Wasn't she going to meet your dad?"

"That was the plan, but we broke up on the carriage ride here."

Scorpius stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk, slipped on a patch of icy ground, and would have fallen on his arse if Al hadn't caught him by the arm.

"Watch out," Al said, steadying him.

"Thanks for the advice," Scorpius snapped, embarrassed. He tugged his arm out of Al's grip and buried his chin back in the collar of his turtleneck. "Why did you break up?"

"She had a problem with my... y'know. Didn't like me always staring at other boys' arses and all. I've known it for a while, but I was waiting for her to bring it up first. Doesn't matter, really; I've been losing interest in girls lately, anyway."

"Er... I see." Scorpius wasn't sure what else to say, so he stared up at the white-dotted sky. Heavy clouds had closed in around the sun. "Looks like we're going to have a snowstorm."

Al nodded. "We'd better get inside before we get caught in it."

They walked around, searching for a place to stop and take shelter. It wasn't until Scorpius saw the snow-blurred form of an ominous-looking abode appear on the horizon that he realised they had been heading down the path towards the Shrieking Shack.

"Al, we'd better go back."

"Why? Look, the Shrieking Shack's up ahead."

"Um, that's why we need to go back."

As if on cue, a group of boys appeared out of the blur of white, their cloaks wrapped tightly around them. It was Ettore and his Gryffindor friends.

"Wrong way," he called to Scorpius and Al, gesturing frantically in the direction of the village.

"Al..."

"Ignore them. C'mon, I've been here loads of times. Let's go, we're almost there."

"But isn't the place haunted?" Scorpius said desperately. "I heard that you can't get in from the outside because the ghosts will attack you if you get too close."

"That's just a rumour. I'll explain when we get inside."

Scorpius was sceptical, despite Al's reassurances. "Still, it's got to be pretty run-down, an old place like that. We really ought to go back."

"And get caught in the rush of people fighting to pack into the shops?" Al shook his head. "No thanks. I've been inside the shack before; it's not too bad. Don't worry, I'll protect you from any ghosts we come across."

He winked at Scorpius, or at least Scorpius thought he did; it was hard to tell with the snow coming down fast and thick. They continued down the snow-covered path towards a pair of metal gates. Al pushed them open, and they proceeded up the winding path towards the Shrieking Shack, which sat at the top of the low hill.

To Scorpius's mixed relief and dismay, the door to the Shack opened without resistance when Al pushed on it. They entered a narrow hallway. It was cold and dark inside, and the unpleasant smell of damp earth and mildew hung in the air. Wrinkling his nose, Scorpius edged closer to Al, drew his wand, and whispered, "_Lumos!_"

Surprisingly, Al had been right – the inside of the Shrieking Shack wasn't nearly as derelict as the outside suggested. The walls were dusty and wallpapered with cobwebs, but other than that, it was relatively clean. The doorway to Scorpius's left opened into a small sitting room. The only furniture inside was a wooden chair and a sunken sofa. Both were sporting missing chunks and long, jagged scratch marks. Scorpius gulped.

"Um, one of my housemates told me your werewolf cousin lives here," he said, his voice cracking.

"Teddy?" Al said with his usual dry laugh. He walked into the sitting room. "One, he's not a werewolf; two, he's not my cousin; and three, he lives in a flat in London. The abused furniture is a relic of Remus's days here."

"Remus?"

"Teddy's father. I told you about him earlier. He was the reason why there used to be protective charms around this place." Al sat down on the sofa and waved away the cloud of dust that flew up to greet him. "You can sit down. The sofa won't bite. You won't..." He trailed off as he peered into the crack between the two seat cushions. "Er, never mind. Don't look here."

"Why?" Scorpius asked warily. He joined Al at the sofa, and immediately recoiled when he saw what Al had been looking at: the rotting carcass of a dead mother rat and her babies. "Oh, that's _repulsive_."

He backed away and slid down the wall so that he was sitting against it with his legs stretched out in front of him. He felt the wind outside rattle the boards behind him, and wondered if it was safe for them to be inside a ramshackle wooden shack in the middle of a snowstorm.

As if he could read Scorpius's thoughts, Al slid off the sofa and crouched down next to him. "We'll be fine." The words were matter-of-fact, not patronising. "Hey, tell me about your dad. Do you two get along?"

Scorpius knew Al was only talking to help ease his anxiety, but it was comforting all the same. "You think I'd get on well with the kind of person your father described earlier? Father and I are completely different people. He's an arse, in short, and I usually can't stand him."

"But you don't hate him?"

"No, but we haven't got the kind of relationship you and your father have, either. You seem... really close to him."

"Yeah," Al agreed, his face lighting up with childlike joy. "Yeah, Dad's amazing. He's the only one who really understands me. Mum's always fussing over James and Lily, so I don't get many opportunities to talk to her. I mean, I love Mum, too, but Dad's like... he's like my best mate. I can tell him anything."

Scorpius swallowed his envy. What he would give to have that with his own father. "You have a lot of friends," he said, thinking out loud.

Al shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet. "I suppose. I could do without people trying so hard to win me over, though. If I could, I'd switch places with James – he likes that kind of attention. Most of my best mates are in his year, anyway. I've always found it easier to talk to people older than me."

"Mm," Scorpius said drowsily. Despite his best efforts to stay alert, his eyelids were starting to droop – he had never been able to hold up well against the cold. He felt a warm weight settle onto his leg: Al's hand. "What –?"

There was a burst of light, and then warmth washed over Scorpius. He opened his eyes. Al had conjured one of the balls of fire the people at the train station had been holding earlier and levitated into the air above them.

"Thanks," Scorpius murmured. Al's hand was still on his leg. Somewhere in the back of his mind, alarm bells were ringing faintly.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I've got something to show you." Al reached into his pocket and pulled something out. "Dad gave me this earlier. His cousin sent it to him as an early Christmas present."

Scorpius took the flat, square-shaped object Al handed him. "What is it?"

"It's a Muggle device called an iPod. It plays music."

"Wow," Scorpius breathed. He poked the white circle under the blank screen, but no music played.

"I don't think it works here," Al helpfully pointed out.

"Right. So no magic at all? How does it work, then?"

"Dunno. Dad says you've got to use some kind of machine to put music into it, but I don't remember what it's called."

"The music actually goes _inside_?" Scorpius said, amazed that something so tiny could hold sound without a single dash of magic. The cogs in his brain were already working, trying to come up with the best way to casually mention the possibility of receiving an iPod for Christmas to his parents. "Muggles are so _cool_!"

He looked up to beam at Al. The smile slid off his face when he saw Al's expression. He was staring at Scorpius intently, his green eyes seeming to bore right through Scorpius, stripping him of his defences.

Next thing Scorpius knew, it wasn't just Al's gaze that was pinning him to his spot, but Al's body weight as well. Suddenly, Scorpius was wide awake. He struggled to push Al off his legs, but Al held his wrists fast to the dusty floor boards and leaned in so close that their noses brushed.

"You're curious, aren't you?" he murmured. His breath smelled like chocolate. "I've noticed you watching me. You want to know what it's like to kiss a bloke."

"Get off me," Scorpius said weakly. His heart was pounding against his rib cage. What was Al implying? Was he going to...?

"I can show you." Al brushed his lips against Scorpius's, a feather-light touch that made Scorpius jump. "Do you want me to?"

Words lodged in Scorpius's throat. He stared helplessly into Al's eyes – those frighteningly green eyes that had held him captive at the Sorting Ceremony so many years ago, and were doing it again now. Droplets of melted snow clung to Al's long lashes, so fragile that the slightest shake of Al's head would disperse them.

_No,_ Scorpius wanted to shout. _No, don't do it, or I'll never be able to turn back._ But he couldn't get the words out. He could only hold his breath, afraid to move, to let go, to tip the delicate balance of the moment they were both holding onto.

"Time's up, Scorpius."

Al cupped the side of Scorpius's face with one gloved hand and removed his glasses with the other. Then he pressed his lips lightly against Scorpius's. They were cold and wet from melted snow, and without thinking, Scorpius lurched forwards, capturing them in his own. One of his hands flew up to bury itself in Al's thick hair, and Al made a soft sound of approval deep in his throat. He had won.

Kissing Al was different from kissing Rose: the hip Scorpius's other hand found was slimmer and sharper, and the heady scent that filled his nostrils when he inhaled through his nose was so utterly _male_ – all leather and sweat and open air. It made Scorpius's head spin dangerously, and a rush of heat flooded through his body, chasing away the cold-induced lethargy. He tilted his head back, unconsciously letting Al take over.

Scorpius didn't have much experience in the field of kissing, but as far as he was concerned, Al was bloody talented at it. He nipped at the corners of Scorpius's mouth, encouraging him to part his lips; he did so without second thought, and was immediately rewarded with Al's tongue, which stroked his own with the kind of confidence that could only come with years of experience. _This is just another kiss to him,_ Scorpius realised with an unpleasant jolt, but it was a fleeting thought, and it vanished as Al kissed him into sweet oblivion.

Then Al drew back, and Scorpius suddenly became aware of something very alarming: Al was hard – and so was he. Scorpius bit his lip, icy uncertainty starting to trickle through the fog of lust in his head. What was he doing? He had kissed another boy and _enjoyed_ it. His body was turned on by something he was supposed to be disgusted by, something –

"Scorpius," Al said hoarsely. He dipped down and latched his lips onto Scorpius's throat, sucking on Scorpius's pulse point. A strangled moan forced its way past Scorpius's lips, and he threw his head back, barely noticing the pain that accompanied the dull _thud_ of his head hitting the wall behind him.

Abandoning all restraint, Scorpius squeezed his eyes shut and thrust upwards. Al groaned, and the sound of that shot straight to Scorpius's groin. Somewhere, in a distant part of his brain, Scorpius realised that this was different, that this went far beyond kissing, but he couldn't stop. It felt too good, and Merlin knew he needed this; he was, after all, sexually deprived for a boy of his age...

"Stop – Scorpius, that's enough."

Scorpius's eyes flew open. It took a moment for him to regain his orientation. When he did, he gasped and shoved Al off him. "_Fuck._"

Al laughed breathlessly as he scrambled back into a sitting position. "We didn't get that far, but we can if you want to."

"No, no, no," Scorpius chanted, groping around the floor for his glasses. Al silently handed them to him, and he shoved them back onto his face. Al came back into clear focus. His lips were red, his hair was more mussed than usual – had Scorpius done that? – and the expression on his face was unreadable. "No. _No_. I'm straight."

Al snorted. "I hate to break it to you, Scorpius, but you were pretty into that kiss."

Scorpius banged his head against the wall behind him. "Father is going to kill me. He's going to _slaughter_ me."

Silence – the blizzard outside must have died down – and then: "I thought you didn't care for his approval."

"I don't! This is different – it isn't right –"

"What's wrong about it?" Al demanded, and Scorpius detected a hint of the razor-sharp edge he had heard once before in Al's tone. This only served to heighten his panic.

"Everything! It's fine when you do it, but I can't – people don't like gays, Al!"

Al's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, it looked like he was going to lash out at Scorpius with some biting remark. Then, to Scorpius's astonishment, his shoulders slumped and he bowed his head.

"Fine. Forget it. I shouldn't have forced myself on you."

_Wait – what?_

Scorpius gaped at Al, his brain still stuck in defence mode. It took a moment for him to realise why he was so bewildered by Al's unexpected response: This was the first time he had seen Al give up without a fight, the first time he had seen Al so... defeated.

A knot of guilt began forming in the pit of Scorpius's stomach. Perhaps he'd been too harsh. He had reacted unreasonably and insulted Al without thinking. The rational side of him urged him to apologise, but his irrational side refused to relinquish control over his vocal cords.

Afraid that he would say something unforgivable if he stayed any longer, Scorpius stood up and headed for the door.

"Wait, Scorpius, the snow –"

"I'm not staying here with you," he growled, before opening the door and stepping outside.

He paused on the doorstop, momentarily stunned by the weather change the end of the blizzard had brought about. The sun had broken through the clouds, and everything was unbearably bright. The earlier snowstorm had turned the landscape into a storybook winter wonderland, but Scorpius could hardly appreciate its beauty. He plunged through the snow blanketing the path towards the village, using both hands to shield his eyes from the reflected glare of the sun, not caring that his boots were all but falling off his feet. No matter how hard he tried to block out the blinding whiteness all around him, however, the hurt expression that had flashed across Al's face just before the door slammed shut remained burned onto his retinas.

--

Scorpius spent the remaining week before the start of Christmas break avoiding Al. Occasionally he stopped to consider how he had fallen into this pathetic cycle of alternating between speaking to and ignoring Al, which then led him to wonder when he would go back to speaking to Al. _Never_ was his usual conclusion. Scorpius wasn't sure if there was anything Al could do this time to make him forget what had happened.

Apparently Al thought the same, because he didn't make an effort to amend their relationship. He largely ignored Scorpius when they saw each other, and only spoke to Scorpius once during Potions after Slughorn announced that they would have to reconvene with their partners for the Ageing Potion assignment and write a joint essay on the potion's properties. They had agreed that Al would write the draft and Scorpius would do the revisions, and that had been that. No smiles or lingering stares – just the aloof Albus Potter that Scorpius had known before his accidental discovery of the notebook.

Scorpius constantly found himself questioning and doubting the situation. Why had Al accepted the end of their acquaintance so easily? Surely he had a reason for stopping his pursuit of Scorpius without warning. Rose had said, after all, that Al always did everything he could to get what he wanted – and didn't he want Scorpius? Or was it all an elaborate joke, another way to harass him for being a Malfoy? _You can't trust a Potter,_ his father had once warned him. Perhaps he had been right.

Before Scorpius knew it, the holidays arrived and he was back in his room at Malfoy Manor with no one but the cranky house-elf Doddy for company.

"Where's Father?" he asked Doddy one afternoon. It was the day after Christmas, and Scorpius was sitting on the edge of his bed, fiddling with the iPod his mother had given him. He had asked for one immediately after they'd Floo'd back from King's Cross. His father had, predictably, said no, which his mother had, just as predictably, taken as a challenge, going out of her way to ask her Muggle-born friends for help in obtaining an iPod and the accompanying device needed to add music to it (called a "laptop", she had smugly informed Scorpius). Unfortunately, while busy seeking revenge against her husband, it had not occurred to her that complex Muggle gadgets usually ceased to function once they encountered magic in the atmosphere. Thus, Scorpius was left with an impotent Christmas present and two parents who were back to glaring daggers at each other across the dinner table.

"Doddy does not know," said the house-elf, scowling at the floor. Scorpius knew that she resented his visits home for all the extra housework they required her to do, which was why he usually ordered her to dote upon him when he was back, even though a holding a conversation with the wall would have been more fulfilling than speaking to her.

"Why? Shouldn't you always know what Father's up to?"

"Master must be attending to many important matters. He is not having the time to indulge Young Master."

"'Important'? Like what, putting dried herbs in alphabetical order?" Scorpius rolled his eyes, tossed the iPod on his bedside table, and fell back onto his bed. He tucked his hands under his head and stared up at the ceiling. It looked like a new crack had begun to spread from the far left corner of his room during his absence. "Say, Doddy, you wouldn't have any advice to give me about relationships, would you?"

"Doddy cannot imagine why Young Master would be having relationship problems." Scorpius could almost hear the smirk in her voice. He made a mental note to bring up the possibility of replacing the house staff next time he saw his father.

"I'll have you know that lots of girls admire me. Simon said so, and he knows everything that goes on around the castle."

Doddy sniffed. "Doddy is hearing rumours about the Longbottom boy's promiscuity. It seems he has begun to corrupt Young Master with his wickedness."

"Or maybe I'm just desirable," Scorpius snapped. _But you're not anymore,_ a snide voice in the back of his mind reminded him. _Look what happened with Al. He's probably crossed you off his notebook by now._

Something in Scorpius's chest contracted painfully. He covered his eyes with his arm, pressing so hard against his eyelids that he saw stars. "Okay, how about this. What if another house-elf fancied you and you thought you felt the same way, but you didn't want to leave this place? What would you do?"

"Doddy would do the honourable thing and stay with Master and Mistress," Doddy immediately said, puffing her chest out proudly. "House-elves must never fall in love! We is not having the privilege of forgiveness that Young Master and his friends so freely abuse. We does not betray our masters on a whim."

A whim. Was that what it was? Humans, Scorpius knew, lived to satisfy their fleeting curiosities, but once they conquered the thrill of the unknown, the excitement usually faded away. As a teenager, he was bound to have these phases – but if that was the case, why wasn't he satisfied? Why couldn't he get Al off his mind?

"The honourable thing, huh," Scorpius mused. "Don't you ever get sick of doing the honourable thing? I mean, there are people out there who say it's degrading for a house-elf to spend its entire life kissing someone else's shoes. You don't agree with them?"

"Doddy is knowing no greater joy than to serve Master, for it is in Doddy's nature to love only Young Master's family and no one else. Doddy is not listening to what others say; they is not knowing anything."

"I see," Scorpius said thoughtfully. "You can go now, Doddy."

Doddy sprung up from the stool she had been sitting on. "Young Master is fickle and inconsiderate! You is telling Doddy to talk to you, and then you is ordering Doddy to leave so suddenly. Young Master should be less demanding in the future."

With that, she Disapparated out of Scorpius's room, leaving him to wonder when she had started being able to insult him without having to punish herself.

The afternoon wore on and soon night began to creep in, but Scorpius didn't move from his spot. His mother had gone to visit an old school friend of hers for the day, so there was no need to go down for dinner. Scorpius stared out his window, watching the last of the sun's rays disappear behind the horizon. He contemplated writing a letter to Simon, but rejected the idea after some deliberation. What would he say? "_Dear Simon. Today I stayed in my room, thought about Al for a while, and exchanged a few words with the house-elf. Hope you're enjoying yourself in Germany. Scorpius_"? No, it would only be useless work for his owl.

After a while, Scorpius had Doddy bring him the day's _Prophet_ and settled down under his covers to read it. As always, Mr Potter's familiar figure was pictured on the front page. Scorpius was about to turn the page when the headline over the photo caught his eye: **Youngest Potter boy in love at last?**

So it was Al, not his father. Quick as a flash, Scorpius skimmed the article. Three-quarters of it contained a detailed explanation of Al's sexuality and how he had first come out to his peers – all information Scorpius knew already. The rest of the article described how a reporter had caught Al leaving Madam Malkin's and asked him what he'd bought, to which Al had responded with a "secretive smile" and said he was giving his purchase to someone close to him. A few hours later, according to the article, Al had been spotted entering Florean Fortescue's with an unidentified male companion.

Scorpius's racing pulse slowed down slightly when he realised there was no mention of him in the article, but he still felt sick as he stared at the picture. It had been taken as Al was leaving Madam Malkin's. In it, Al nodded at an unseen person, said a few words, and then smiled. It was the same disarmingly open smile he used to give Scorpius, and seeing it directed at someone else made something inside of him throb in pain. He tore away the front page of the paper, crumpled it in his hands, and threw it into his closet.

That smile was _his_. He had earned it. How dare the photographer capture one and print it for the world to see? He had half a mind to Floo call Al and yell at him for – for what? Smiling in public? The dampening realisation that Al had done nothing wrong put out Scorpius's rage. Even the incident at the Shrieking Shack had been just as much Scorpius's fault as it had been Al's. In fact, Al had tried to stop Scorpius before they went too far. He had offered Scorpius a chance to go back, a chance to end what had threatened to spiral out of control before it was too late. Scorpius had made the decision to forge ahead anyway.

Scorpius rolled over in bed. He'd been feeling even more restless lately than he usually did at home. Homework and Quidditch kept him preoccupied at school, but the manor's empty rooms held no distractions. At night, when everything was dark and silent, it was all Scorpius could do to block out the image of the hurt look on Al's face that still lingered in his mind's eye.

The rest of the memories were even harder to forget. Scorpius ran a finger along his lower lip absently. He could still remember the warmth of Al's lips on his, the faint taste of chocolate on his tongue. He had never been kissed like that – had never _been_ kissed, period – and he clung onto the memory of it, because a part of him suspected that it would be the last time he'd ever experience anything as exhilarating as that. It was time to face it: he and Al were through. Just like Scorpius had moved on from Rose, Al too had found someone new and moved on. Not that it was surprising – they had only started speaking less than a month ago, and Al must have assumed he was homophobic after what he had said in the Shrieking Shack.

But Scorpius wasn't homophobic. Unlike his father, he couldn't hate entire groups of people for being who they were. It wasn't homosexuality he was afraid of, but its consequences, because even if he denied it, the truth was that he cared too deeply what others thought of him. Acceptance was his forbidden fruit, and he would do anything to taste it. It was all very well for Doddy to love the ones she was bound to and disregard everyone else, but Scorpius wasn't sure he could do the same. He didn't know if he had the courage to.

Scorpius groaned into his pillow. Surely he had hit rock bottom when he was envious of a house-elf.

--

"Scorpius, there's something we need to tell you."

"What is it, Mother?"

Scorpius's mother glanced over at her husband, who gave a short nod. Scorpius raised his eyebrows. It was his last dinner at home before he went back to school, and his parents had been acting oddly civil to each other all evening.

"Your father and I... we've been debating the merits of this for a while now, and we finally decided this afternoon that it would be best if –"

"You got a divorce?" Scorpius suggested.

His father cleared his throat and tugged at his high collar. Scorpius had never seen him look so uncomfortable. "No, not quite. A... temporary separation."

"Yeah?" Scorpius said, somewhat relieved. That was a start. "All right, that's great."

He returned to his meal, but now his mother cleared her throat. "We'd like to discuss one more thing with you."

Scorpius popped a green bean into his mouth and put down his fork. "Is it about Doddy? Because I still stand by what I said. I really think her time here is up."

"No, no, it's not about Doddy," his mother said. She fiddled with the corner of her napkin. "Not entirely, at least. She told us this, but... it's about you."

"What did she tell you?"

"That you're in a relationship," his father said.

Scorpius made a mental note to have a sock handy next time he saw the house-elf. "Um, not really. I just asked her a few questions about relationships in general."

Both of his parents exchanged doubtful looks.

"Scorpius," his mother said gently, "if it's Rose again..."

"No, it's not her."

"Well, whoever it is, we support you. We understand that right now is a pivotal moment in your adolescence, and we want you to know that even if you encounter one or two failed relationships, you shouldn't give up."

"Right," Scorpius said.

"_Even,_" continued his mother, shooting her husband a warning glare, "if it's a Potter."

Scorpius spluttered on the mouthful of water he had just swallowed. "_What?_"

"Potter told me his daughter has a photo of you on her wall," his father said awkwardly, and Scorpius wasn't sure whether or not to feel relieved. "I understand that she has a... pleasing figure" – Scorpius snorted – "but please understand that she has a very questionable reputation."

"_You_ have a questionable reputation, and I still married you," Scorpius's mother muttered into her wineglass.

"That's irrelevant to the topic at hand!"

"Why? Better a rumoured tramp than an ex-fugitive, I say."

Scorpius dug the heel of his palm into his forehead and heaved a sigh.

--

On the first day of the new school term, Scorpius set out to apologise to Al. It didn't matter that he had lost his chance – he couldn't bear to go through the rest of the school year being swept over by Al's cool gaze every time they passed each other in the hallway. At the very least, he wanted to know that he'd been forgiven.

On his way down to the Slytherin common room, Scorpius stopped by the third floor boys' bathroom to wash his ink-stained hands. He had spent the afternoon making much-needed corrections to Al's draft of their Potions essay, which he had found sitting on his bed when he entered his dormitory earlier. Scorpius had hoped to find a message from Al slipped into the writing explaining why he was so determined to avoid him, but much to his disappointment, there'd been nothing but two feet of exposition about the risks of taking Ageing Potions.

Scorpius finished washing his hands and looked in the mirror to check his appearance. It was then that he noticed something odd: there were two pairs of feet under the closed door of the bathroom stall behind him. Narrowing his eyes, he dried his hands and walked over to the door. Instead of leaving, he opened the door and released it, letting it swing shut. Then he ducked between the partial wall dividing the entryway and the bathroom.

"I think he's gone," murmured a voice from inside the occupied bathroom stall. Scorpius froze – it was Al.

"I need to go," said the second person. His voice sounded vaguely familiar. "Potter, let me out."

Scorpius heard the door creak open and the two boys step out of the stall. Up until then, he hadn't considered what would happen if he was caught eavesdropping, but now the possibility became a very real one. He eyed the door, wondering if he'd be able to run outside and disappear down the hallway before he was seen.

The sound of clothes rustling and a fly being zipped up drew Scorpius's attention back to the invisible scene on the other side of the wall. Realisation struck him, swiftly and painfully: whatever the two boys had been doing in the bathroom stall had been anything but innocent.

"We've got to stop meeting in public places," Al's companion was saying. Scorpius dug his fingers into his palms. So this was Al's new love interest.

Al mumbled something Scorpius couldn't hear.

"Can you shut up about that already?" the other boy snapped. "I told you, I will. Just... not right now."

"When, then? I'd understand if this were the first time, but considering I've had my cock up your arse more times than I can count on the fingers of one hand, maybe you should start considering the possibility that you might be, oh, I don't know, gay?"

"We're not –"

"I know we're not in a relationship. I'm not asking you for commitment. All I want is for you to stop fucking _denying everything_, Aiden."

Scorpius's eyes widened. Aiden Cotton, the sixth-year Ravenclaw prefect and one of the straightest blokes Scorpius knew – or so he had thought. It made sense; Aiden's name had been on Al's list.

"Look, I'm sorry, all right? This is complicated shit for me. My parents will kill me if they find out."

There was a long pause, and then Al said flatly, "Why are you all like this?"

"What're you talking about?"

"The bloke before you was the same way. Pretending he wasn't gay. Worrying about what his family would think. Lying to himself all the bloody time."

"Who was it? Someone at Hogwarts?"

Scorpius slumped against the wall. This was it. The moment his name fell from Al's lips, his life would take a turn down the cold, lonely path of social rejection. The entire school would scorn him, Simon would disassociate from him, and his father would disown him. He considered coming out from his hiding place and shutting Al up before he could say anything, but there was no good in revealing himself; he would only confirm that he was the other bloke Al had been talking about.

"No. You don't know him."

Relief, and then confusion, flooded through Scorpius. Why had Al not ratted him out? He very well could have to get revenge on Scorpius for ditching him at Hogsmeade.

"You still like him?" Aiden growled.

Al laughed softly. "No. Of course I don't. I'm here with you right now, aren't I?"

"What about that article in the _Daily Prophet_, then? What was that 'someone close to me' rubbish if there's no one else? You didn't give me anything."

"Are you jealous?"

"Fuck you."

Scorpius heard a footstep and then the unmistakable wet sound of two people snogging. Against his better judgment, he moved closer to the edge of the wall and craned his neck to catch a glimpse into the nearest mirror. It showed, from an awkward angle, the reflection of the two boys on the other side. From what Scorpius could see, Al had Aiden's school tie twined between his fingers and Aiden's hands were halfway down the back of Al's jeans.

A pang passed through Scorpius, so sharp and sudden that he nearly missed it. Then he felt it: the same burning sensation in his gut he had felt when he'd seen Al and Weina kissing. This time his instincts made the connection right away, and his brain followed a split second later.

Jealousy. He was jealous.

"God, I missed you during the hols," Al said breathlessly when he and Aiden broke apart. Scorpius ducked back behind the wall.

"You saw me at Diagon Alley."

"Yeah, but we had to pretend to be friends, didn't we?"

"We nearly got found out. It's a damn good thing no one recognised me. Sodding reporters – I don't get why they stalk you so relentlessly."

"Aiden, when are you going to come out?" The question was asked calmly, but Scorpius detected the undercurrent of frustration in Al's tone. "I meant what I said – I'm not meeting up with you again until you tell your friends."

"I will, I swear."

Al sighed. "Fine. Come here."

Scorpius could take it no longer. He reached for the door, opened it, and waited half a second before walking around the wall and into the bathroom. He was grudgingly impressed by how much semblance of normality the new positions Al and Aiden had arranged themselves into held. They were standing two sinks apart, ignoring each other completely as they fixed their appearances in their respective mirrors.

"All right, Malfoy?" Aiden said coolly as he swept past Scorpius. He left the bathroom without waiting for a response from Scorpius, which was fine with him, since he doubted he'd be able to hold back the string of swear words his tongue was eager to let loose at Aiden if he opened his mouth.

There was a short, awkward silence following Aiden's departure, and then Al glanced at Scorpius in the mirror, his expression masked. "Did Winky leave our essay in your room?"

Scorpius assumed Winky was a house-elf, though for all he knew, Winky could very well be another one of Al's numerous Ravenclaw love interests. "Yeah. It was... good. I'm almost finished with the corrections."

"Great. Give it to me tomorrow during Charms. I'm going to see Professor Slughorn so I can turn it in early for us."

"Okay."

"See you, then," Al said. He started to walk past Scorpius, but Scorpius grabbed his wrist. He twisted around and glanced down at Scorpius's hand, his eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"Don't."

"What?" Al repeated.

"Don't do it. Not with Cotton. I don't want him touching you."

"You... how do you know about that?"

Scorpius took a deep, steadying breath and forced himself to hold Al's gaze. "I just do." He tightened his grip on Al's wrist when he saw that Al intended to interrupt, and Al winced. "He's never going to change, Al. I swear on my life, you'll regret this."

Al made a sound of disbelief. "That's rich, coming from you." He tried to prise Scorpius's fingers off his wrist, but Scorpius refused to let go. "You're the most hypocritical little shit I've ever met! You go around spouting rubbish about staying away from bi-curious pricks when you're no different. You hate me one moment, then run after me the next. Get the fuck _over_ yourself, Scorpius. I'm not your toy."

"_Young Master is fickle and inconsiderate!"_

Stunned, Scorpius released Al's wrist. "Th-that's how you feel?"

"Oh, please. Don't tell me you thought I'd throw my arms around you and beg you to take me back the moment you stopped avoiding me. You're not stupid."

The last three words were said with a touch of sarcasm. Al shouldered past Scorpius, rubbing at the red marks his fingers had left on his skin. Halfway through the door, he paused and added over his shoulder, "Don't forget to bring the essay to Charms tomorrow."

With that, he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Scorpius might as well have still been at home for all the sleep he got that night. Around five in the morning, when he could no longer bear staring up at the dark blue curtain over his bed and listening to Ettore's snores, he lit his wand, clambered out from under his duvet, and pushed aside the hangings around Simon's bed.

"Wake up," he whispered, shaking Simon's shoulder. "Come on, I've got something to tell you."

Simon mumbled something incomprehensible. Exasperated, Scorpius tugged Simon's blankets away from his face. Simon cracked an eye open. "Wussa matter wi' you?"

"Did you know Al's been shagging Aiden Cotton since he broke up with Weina?"

Simon gave Scorpius a one-eyed blink. "Wuh? No, wait... gimme a moment."

He struggled to sit up, his movements as sluggish as those of a bear emerging from a winter-long hibernation. Once upright, he shifted to the other side of the bed, giving Scorpius room to sit down. It took a moment for him to blearily fix his eyes on Scorpius's face.

"What was that about Potter?" he asked, covering a yawn with one big hand.

Scorpius hugged one of Simon's pillows to his chest. "He's been sleeping with Aiden Cotton."

"No way," Simon said, his eyes widening. "I take it that's the reason why you've been sulking all day."

"Can we go down to the common room? I don't want to wake the rest of them up."

Nodding, Simon climbed out of bed. Scorpius followed him to the door, the pillow still clutched in his hands. They tiptoed out of the room, down the stairs, and into the common room. There was one person reading by the light of the dying fire: a third-year girl whose name Scorpius couldn't remember.

"Hey, you," Simon said, not unkindly. "Get to bed before a prefect finds you."

With a flustered apology, the girl leapt to her feet and scuttled away, hiding her face behind her purple-streaked hair. Not for the first time, Scorpius was grateful for Simon's widely accepted status of authority in the Ravenclaw Tower.

"I've fucked everything up," Scorpius declared as he flopped down on one of the sofas. He buried his face in Simon's pillow.

Simon tugged the pillow out of his hands. "Smothering yourself won't solve anything. What did you do this time?"

"I kissed Al," Scorpius said in a horrified whisper. It was the first time he'd told anyone, and it felt good to finally get it out, like a burden had been lifted off his shoulders. "I... I might be gay, Simon."

"Well, if you liked it, I don't see what the problem is."

"You're not disgusted?"

Simon sprawled out on another sofa and slung an arm over the back of it. "No, of course not. If you haven't noticed, I've been the one throwing you at Al. What's wrong with you, Scorpius? This isn't like you. You're always on the lookout for a new way to piss off your dad. Isn't this the perfect way to do it?"

"I can't. I... I just can't."

"You're scared?"

"No!"

"Homophobic?"

"_No!_ I'm just... worried. This is kind of new to me, all right? I didn't feel like this with Rose. I didn't care when she flirted with other guys, but thinking about Al and that cocky git..." Scorpius scowled and punched the seat cushion next to his head. "I saw them in the bathroom today, and he was treating Al like crap. I don't know _what_ Al sees in an idiot like him."

The placating look Simon gave him made him blush. "Sorry." Scorpius grabbed a quill and a blank sheet of parchment off the table next to him and began doodling to keep his hands away from the string of his pyjama pants, which he'd been twisting nervously between his fingers. "What tipped you off about me and Al?"

"I've suspected it ever since that day in Potions, but it became obvious the day we went to Hogsmeade," Simon said with one-shouldered shrug. "I've known you for six years, Scorpius, and the only person you've ever been too shy to approach is Rose. Not too difficult to piece together the puzzle, y'know." He peered over at Scorpius. "Hey, what're you drawing?"

"Oh, sorry. These are Chinese characters."

"You know _Chinese_?" Simon said, looking deeply impressed. "How'd you learn Chinese?"

"I never told you?" Simon shook his head. "Mother hired a tutor to teach me languages when I was a kid. She wanted me to be multilingual so I could go travelling around the world with her when I grew up, since Father refused to do it."

"Seriously? So which languages do you know?"

"Russian, French, Italian –"

"Okay, okay, I get it, you're a language guru!"

"It's just those four. Chinese is my favourite. Look..." Scorpius showed Simon the characters he'd been scribbling. "Aren't they neat?"

"What do they say?"

Scorpius bent back over the parchment. "Nothing in particular. They're just random characters." There was no way he was going to translate what he'd written for anyone, not even Simon. It was embarrassing enough just reading over the words.

"Sure," Simon said sceptically. "So what're you going to do now?"

"Dunno..."

Scorpius ran a hand through his rumpled hair and stared down at the characters he'd written: 喜欢你。往往会想对你告白, 虽然我还不太了解自己的心情。为什么? 是什么令你为他心动? 就算他再怎样负你，你眼里始终都只有他。They were the words he couldn't say out loud, each one encoded so beautifully, so completely, that no one would ever guess he was confessing something taboo.

After a while, he turned the page over. "Nothing, I guess. Al's with Aiden now." He clenched the armrest of the sofa. "Dammit, why _Aiden_ of all people? He's so..."

"Perfect?"

Scorpius glowered at Simon. "Some friend you are."

Simon's expression sobered. "Look, I know you might not want to hear this, Scorpius, but you haven't exactly been an angel to Potter either. Before break –"

"I _know_ what happened before break, all right? I admit it. I was wrong. What the fuck else am I supposed to say?"

A log snapped in the fireplace, sending sparks flying into the air. Scorpius watched them settle into the ashes and fade to grey. His frustration coiled and knotted inside him. He hated being reminded that _he_ was at fault, hated knowing that _he_ could have done something to prevent this.

At last Simon broke the silence.

"I reckon you should stop holding back. As long as you know where you cocked up, you've still got a chance of redeeming yourself. Go out there and win Potter back. You're a good-looking enough bloke – not sure if you're on Cotton's level, but you're close enough. Your lamentable lack of relationship skills can be worked on, and I'm sure Potter won't mind that you're a bit of a social recluse."

Scorpius couldn't resist a small smile. "Thanks, Simon. I can always count on you to give great motivational speeches."

Simon beamed. "Well, y'know, it's in the best mate job description. I mean it, though. Who cares what other people think? Popular opinion can kiss my arse. If you want Potter, then the only people whose feelings count are yours and his."

"You sound like Doddy. 'Doddy is not caring what others say! They is knowing nothing!'"

"Ah, well, I always thought that house-elf was unusually intelligent. In any case, we'd better get back to bed – looks like the sun's starting to rise."

Sure enough, dawn was beginning to break, spilling its grey light into the common room through the many arched windows. Scorpius followed Simon back upstairs to their dorm room. Simon immediately climbed back into bed and barely managed a mumbled "good night" before he was out. Scorpius, however, sat down at his desk, put aside the sheet of parchment he had brought up with him, and pulled his and Al's Potions essay towards him. He went to work completing the rest of the edits and finished an hour before his first class. Yawning, he gathered together the loose sheets of parchment on his desk into one neat pile. Then he headed for the showers, hoping that a long soak would do the trick of easing the dark circles that had undoubtedly appeared under his eyes.

--

Charms the next day was nothing short of torturous. Though Scorpius's eyes followed Al's every movement, Al didn't even notice him – _his_ eyes were on Aiden the entire time. Scorpius could see the poorly concealed hope in them, and it made his hands itch to wring Aiden's neck when he didn't acknowledge Al once throughout the entire double period.

_I'd treat you better,_ he wanted to tell Al._ I wouldn't hide anything. I wouldn't lie to you._

But he kept silent and went about Confunding his toad as if he wasn't tempted to do the same to Al and make him forget about Aiden.

As promised, Scorpius gave the completed essay to Al after Charms ended. He tried to wait until everyone was gone so that they could have a moment alone, but Al made a point of leaving with the rest of class and waiting outside in the hallway where everyone could see them.

Al received the essay with a nod, tucked it into his bag, and walked off without another word. Scorpius watched him go, the butterflies in his stomach replaced by a heavy stillness that seemed to numb his entire body.

Simon appeared at his side. "Let's go," he said, taking Scorpius's elbow and steering him in the opposite direction.

"Wait," Scorpius said, halting in the middle of the hallway. Instead of heading to his next class, Al was striding purposely towards Aiden, who was standing a short distance away with a group of his friends. When Aiden looked up and saw Al, an alarmed expression immediately flitted across his face. Scorpius tensed. There was something in the way Aiden drew closer to his friends as Al approached that made warning bells go off in his head.

Scorpius watched as Al stopped in front of Aiden, his arms folded, and said something that Scorpius couldn't hear. Aiden glanced over his shoulder at his friends, all of whom were smirking at him, and then turned back to Al, his eyebrows raised.

"No," he said, his voice carrying over to where Scorpius stood watching. "Haven't a clue what you're talking about."

Then Al did something completely unexpected. Instead of walking away, he grabbed the front of Aiden's robes and, in one swift movement, punched him in the jaw. Swearing loudly, Aiden stumbled backwards into the semi-circle his friends had formed behind him. Several of the students passing by turned to gawk, and Scorpius's jaw dropped.

"Does that mean anything to you?" Al spat. He shook the hand he had used to punch Aiden, as if trying to shake all traces of Aiden off of him.

Aiden bared his teeth, hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Don't you fucking touch me, you dirty shirt lifter!"

Even from a distance, Scorpius immediately recognised the hurt look that crossed Al's face. The little restraint he still possessed shattered. Simon's hand came to rest on his shoulder even as he tugged his wand out of his pocket, but Scorpius shrugged it off without a thought and pushed through the small crowd that had gathered around Al and Aiden.

"Who're you calling a shirt lifter?"

Aiden looked momentarily taken aback, but he quickly recollected himself, his mouth twisting into a sneer. "Potter. Didn't you know he's into cock?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. I also know you're into his."

A resounding silence followed Scorpius's words. All the blood had drained from Aiden's face. "Come again? If I didn't know better, I'd say you just called me –"

"Queer?" Scorpius suggested. His voice trembled from the effort of trying to contain his bubbling fury. "Yeah, you heard right. Judging from the way you were groping him in the bathroom the other day, I'd say I was right on the money, too."

The silence around them thickened and congealed. Scorpius felt Al's eyes on him, but his attention remained fixed on Aiden. He _couldn't_ look away. If the rage that had driven him to this point went away now, he'd be in trouble.

At last Aiden drew himself up to his full, admittedly impressive height. "I'd be careful who you go around accusing of sodomy, Malfoy," he snarled. "I'm a prefect, in case you haven't noticed."

"Oh, I've noticed. To tell you the truth, I expected better behaviour from a prefect, but apparently this school's standards aren't what they used to be. Tell me, Cotton, who'd you have to suck off to get that shiny badge on your chest?"

"Scorpius, enough."

"Stay the fuck out of this, Al."

Aiden let out a bark of laughter. "Careful, you're going to need your boyfriend's help once I'm through with you." He drew his wand. "I'll _destroy_ you, Malfoy. Don't think I'll hesitate to send you down the same road your filthy grandfather went down. Murdered by his own kind, wasn't he? Shame they didn't get to the rest of your vile family before –"

"_Petrificus Totalus!_"

Aiden fell over backwards, stiff as a board. The students around them broke into excited whispers. Scorpius crouched down beside Aiden and dug his wand into his throat.

"Before _what_?" he hissed. The wild look of terror in Aiden's eyes filled him with vindictive pleasure. "What, you've got nothing to say? How disappointing. I thought you were going to – what was the term you used? 'Destroy' me, wasn't it?"

He flicked his wand, releasing Aiden's lips from the spell so he could speak.

"Get away from me, fag!" was the first thing Aiden spat out.

Scorpius jabbed his wand harder into Aiden's throat, making Aiden choke. "Watch it, Cotton. You're forgetting that this fag here could finish you off right now if he wanted to. You reckon they'll write that on your gravestone? 'Here lies Aiden Cotton, done in by that Malfoy _fag_'?"

The spectators had stopped whispering; they backed away, clearly worried Scorpius had finally gone off the deep end. Scorpius felt an insistent hand on his shoulder, but in his fury, in his determination to _hurt_ the bastard at his feet, he shrugged it off easily. This must be how his father had felt, he realised. Judged. Despised. Scorned. All for reasons beyond his control. For his father, it had been his name. For Scorpius, it was more than just his name: it was his very nature.

Scorpius's entire world seemed to freeze. He had admitted it. He had said it out loud. He was _fucked_.

Scorpius pushed himself to his feet and stumbled backwards.

"Wait –"

"Forget it," Scorpius interrupted, striding past Al. He didn't want to hear it. He had screwed things over for Al and Aiden, but even if Al hated him for it, he didn't regret what he'd done. At the moment, however, he needed time to recollect himself.

Simon was waiting just outside the circle of students. Without a word, he slung an arm around Scorpius's shoulders, causing the storm of panic raging inside of Scorpius to subside a little. Together, the two of them walked back to the Ravenclaw Tower. Another common room talk seemed in order.

--

"Scorpius."

Scorpius straightened up, snapping out of the stupor he'd fallen into while Slughorn had been describing the uses of gurdyroot in medicinal potions. He glanced over his shoulder, found himself face to face with Al, and immediately turned back to the front, his back stiff and straight.

"Scorpius," Al hissed again, "I need to talk to you. Meet me outside after class."

"Can't," Scorpius mumbled. "Detention."

It wasn't entirely false – after yesterday's incident, Flitwick had cornered him in the Ravenclaw Tower and lectured him for an hour about duelling in the hallways before slapping a weeklong detention on him. Al didn't need to know that Scorpius was allowed to choose which free periods he wanted to spend carrying out his punishment.

"Then come to my room after your classes end. Please. The password's Amortentia."

Scorpius snorted quietly. "You can't be serious."

"I am. It's very Slytherin, isn't it?"

That wasn't exactly how Scorpius would describe it, but he let it drop. "How am I supposed to get in without the other students seeing me?"

"Lower your left hand," Al whispered. Scorpius obeyed, and felt Al press something cool and slippery into it. "Careful, don't let anyone else see."

Scorpius checked to make sure Slughorn wasn't paying attention before lifting the material Al had handed him under the table. It was an Invisibility Cloak. Dumbfounded, Scorpius stuffed it into his bag. "What –?"

"Come," was all Al said.

--

Scorpius stared apprehensively at the blank stretch of wall that guarded the Slytherin common room. Though he had decided to come after much internal debate, he still wasn't entirely sure if it was a good idea for him to venture into Slytherin territory. For all he knew, they could be eating babies in there.

He glanced down at the Invisibility Cloak in his hands and felt a thrill of excitement travel up his spine. He was holding an _actual Invisibility Cloak_. If that weren't incredible enough, it was the one-of-a-kind Invisibility Cloak Harry Potter had once owned. His father would turn green with envy if he knew – Scorpius knew he'd been dying to get his hands on the Cloak for some time now.

_Father._ Scorpius's fingers clenched around the silken material. He had not yet heard from his parents regarding his behaviour the previous day, but the moment when he'd have to face their response couldn't be too far off in the future. Still, he felt very little resentment. For the first time, he thought he understood why his father was so stubborn. He'd only wanted to protect Scorpius.

It hadn't worked, though. Scorpius had resisted his father, and now he knew – he _knew_ what it felt like to be openly regarded as different, as an outsider. He sensed it in the way his housemates averted their eyes when he stepped into the common room. Simon had insisted this was partly because they were still reeling from seeing Scorpius stand up to Aiden, but Scorpius suspected otherwise. Oddly enough, he wasn't bothered. Silence in this case was infinitely preferable to open hostility.

Scorpius took a deep breath, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then swung the Cloak over his head. It settled around him like water.

"_Amortentia_," he said.

The stone wall slid aside, revealing a low, dungeon-like common room. To Scorpius's relief, no one was around to see the entrance open of its own accord. Holding the cloak close around him, he stepped through the opening in the wall and hurried down the stone corridor beyond, careful not to attract the attention of students gathered around the fireplace as he passed by.

Either Salazar Slytherin had thought his well-hidden entrance to the common room would do the trick of keeping intruders out, or the Slytherins were even stupider than they made themselves out to be in public, because the layout of the dormitories was surprisingly simple. A corridor split into two just beyond the common room, with the left half leading to the boys' dormitories and the right half leading to the girls'. Each dormitory branched off from these two narrower corridors, and it appeared, as Scorpius began heading down the left one, that they were arranged in chronological order beginning with the first-years and ending with the seventh.

Just as Scorpius passed the fifth-year boys' dormitory, the door ahead of him flew open and three sixth-years he vaguely recognised tumbled out into the corridor. Scorpius's heart lodged itself in his throat. He pressed himself against the wall, but it was no use – as the boys walked by, the nearest one, a short, skinny boy with closely cropped hair, bumped into him.

"What the hell?" he demanded, squinting at a spot just above Scorpius's left shoulder.

His companions stopped. "What's wrong?" said one of them, a tubby blond boy with thick, round glasses.

"I just hit something," said the first boy. He stretched out a hand towards Scorpius, who leaned away, afraid that if he moved he'd make a sound that would confirm his presence. His mind raced. How would his father react when he heard the news? Would he be pleased that Scorpius had met his death at the hands of Slytherins? Would he consider it poetic justice?

The hand never made contact. "Come on, leave it alone," the blond boy complained, grabbing his friend's sleeve and dragging him away. "It's probably the Baron trying to scare us."

Relief swept over Scorpius, so great that his knees bowed under the weight of it and the Invisibility Cloak nearly slipped off of him.

"You sure we shouldn't have asked Al to come along?" asked the short boy as he and his friends walked away. Apparently he was used to being harassed by the House ghost, because his bump into Scorpius seemed to have already slipped his mind.

"Nah, he's still moping over that Ravenclaw prefect. Best to let him alone when he's like this."

"What about Malfoy?"

"Don't ask me. All I know is that Al's been reading all day, so it's got to be a Ravenclaw."

"I don't get it. Why does he keep going after Ravenclaws when half the girls in our House are dying to spread their legs for him?"

"Dunno. I asked him, but he just gave me his 'fuck off' look."

"Eh, that's Al for you."

Their voices trailed off as they disappeared down the corridor. Scorpius clutched the cloak tightly between his sweaty fingers. So Al still wanted Aiden, even after all that had happened. No wonder he'd invited Scorpius into the snake pit; he must really have wanted Scorpius to suffer.

Scorpius set his jaw. He would have to try that much harder to change Al's mind, then. Straightening the Invisibility Cloak, he approached the sixth-year boys' dormitory and peeked inside. Al was lying on his stomach on the nearest bed, a comic open in front of him. Another boy stood nearby, pulling on his cloak.

Scorpius tiptoed over to Al's bed. Closer inspection revealed that the comic – _The Astounding Adventures of Alvin the Ambitious Auror_ – was open to the publisher's page and Al was staring blankly into space.

"I'm here," Scorpius murmured into Al's ear.

Al jumped. His roommate looked over. "You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Al's eyes flicked over in Scorpius's direction. "Um, when're you leaving, Daphnis?"

"Right now," Daphnis answered as he pulled on a pair of leather gloves. "Later, Al."

He left the room, passing within an inch of Scorpius. Once the door closed behind him, Scorpius swung off the Cloak and dropped it on Al's bed. "Sorry for scaring you," he said gruffly.

"No worries. You can sit down if you want."

Scorpius sat down on the end of Al's bed.

"Did you get in fine? It wasn't too hard, right?"

"Yeah. What's with the password?"

"It's probably referring to the controlling nature of love. You know, since Amortentia puts you under someone else's power. That's what I meant earlier about it being a Slytherin thing." Al grimaced. "Magic can be cruel sometimes."

_So can reality._

Scorpius took a deep breath. "Look," he said to the ground, "I know you probably hate me after what happened, but... I don't care. I don't care if I'm just another person on your fuck list. Do whatever you want with me; I'm yours."

He ended, thoroughly flustered. The speech he'd prepared had been considerably longer; he had meant to say more, to tell Al exactly how he felt and list all the reasons why Aiden was wrong for him, but the words had somehow got ahead of themselves, tumbling out before he could organise them into something more coherent.

When Al didn't respond, Scorpius peeked up through his fringe. The other boy looked flummoxed. "Scorpius, what the hell are you going on about? What fuck list?"

"I saw a list of names in your notebook," Scorpius mumbled. "I – shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to look, but I was curious. The names were all I saw, I swear. I assumed – Simon told me it was probably a list of people you wanted to sleep with."

Again, Al was quiet for a very long time. Scorpius stood up. "I'll show myself out," he said.

"Wait." The corners of Al's lips twitched. "There's no need to be so dramatic. The list you saw is a list of the top ten students in our year. A friend of mine broke into the school's records at the end of last year and found the student rankings. My housemates aren't very bright, so I wrote the top ten down in case I ever needed help on exams."

Scorpius groaned. He was going to murder Simon with his bare hands. "Why'd you get so shirty with me when you thought I read it, then?"

"It's just... I've got some private stuff in there," Al mumbled, turning pink. He shook his head. "The notebook's not what I wanted to talk about. What you did on Monday was pretty brave. Thanks. I didn't know you had it in you."

"Yeah, well, someone had to put Cotton in his place." Scorpius sat back down. "Why him, Al? You could've had anyone else, but you stuck with him. I don't get it. Rose told me you always go after the things you want. Why didn't you find someone better?"

Al's features contorted in bitterness. "How could I? I know everyone around me doesn't approve of my sexuality. It's fine for me to be open about it because I've got Dad behind me, but there comes a point when I just can't push people's tolerance anymore. I can't force anyone to accept me. I-I can't force anyone to _be_ with me; it's not fair."

"You could've just dated girls," Scorpius said quietly.

"You think I didn't consider that, Scorpius? God, you have no idea how many times I wished I could just stop giving a fuck about men after all the one-night stands and ignored letters. The sex was great, but once I started wanting emotional attachment, they bolted. It was all a stupid sodding game to them. Even Teddy..."

"Teddy? Isn't he your cousin?"

"I told you before, he's not my cousin. He's my dad's godson."

"You had _sex_ with him?" Scorpius demanded, scandalised.

"Can you shut up for one second, Scorpius? I only had a bit of a crush on him. One day – I think it was two summers back – I was watching him play Quidditch in the yard with my dad. He was shirtless and sweaty, and he..." Al's eyes glazed over, as if he could see that very scene revisited in his mind's eye, "...he was bloody _gorgeous_. I wouldn't have looked away from him for all the gold in the world. I mean, I'd always admired and liked Teddy, but that was the day I realised I _wanted_ him, too. When he came back inside..."

Scorpius clenched his fists. "When he came back inside?" he prompted, desperate to hear the rest even though he felt slightly nauseous.

"Nothing. Nothing came of it. I cornered him, but he laughed it off. Said I was only curious and he wasn't going to betray my dad's trust by besmirching my virtue or some rubbish like that. Then he walked away as if nothing had happened. Needless to say, my virtue didn't stay intact for very long after that."

Al closed his eyes, and for one trembling second, Scorpius thought he caught a glimpse of what he'd been waiting for Al to reveal: vulnerability. He didn't feel nearly as triumphant as he had thought he would.

"When I started going out with Weina, I thought I'd finally set things right. But the more I tried to be a good boyfriend, the harder it was to stay with her. You... when you started talking to me, and I saw the way you looked at me, I couldn't stand it. You reminded me of all the reasons why I kept going back to blokes."

The raw emotion in Al's voice made Scorpius shiver. "Um," he choked out past the lump in his throat, "but you... you stopped speaking to me."

"Didn't I just explain? I wasn't going to force you into anything. I didn't want to scare you off. Besides, I thought you were another one of the Aidens in this world, leading me on and then balking at the first sight of something meaningful." Al tilted his head back and smiled at Scorpius. "Then I saw what you wrote."

"What I wrote?"

"The Chinese characters on the back of our Potions assignment."

Scorpius's heart sunk to the ground. He frantically ran through memories of the night he and Simon had talked in the common room. He had taken the parchment upstairs with him, and then... he must have mistaken it for a page from the essay and included it in the final assignment.

"How did you figure out what they said?"

Al rolled his eyes. "My ex-girlfriend's half-Chinese, remember? It's not like we don't talk anymore. I saw what you wrote and asked her to translate it for me."

"So you –?"

"_I like you. Sometimes I wish I could tell you that, even though I still don't completely understand how I feel._"

"Stop," Scorpius groaned, mortified. He was never going to live this down.

"_Why?_" Al continued, his tone softening as he recited the next few lines. "_What draws you to him? No matter how much he hurts you, he's still the only one you see._" He moved closer to Scorpius. "Chinese, huh?"

"Those words were for my eyes only!" Scorpius insisted. He should have known the message would find its way into Al's hands somehow. After all, Al seemed to take pleasure in unearthing the secrets he went to the greatest lengths to bury away – except that he hadn't made much of an effort this time, had he? He had kept the parchment instead of tossing it into the fire when he had the chance to. Perhaps he had wanted Al to find out, after all.

"I gathered as much. To tell you the truth, Weina's translation was the last thing I expected. I figured the message was your way of telling me to sod off without being too explicit. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be a love confession."

Scorpius turned red. "Leave off. I'm not usually that..."

"Eloquent?" Laughing, Al twined his fingers in Scorpius's hair and turned his head so that they were facing each other. "For the record, he wasn't the only one I saw," he whispered, and the next thing Scorpius knew, Al's lips were on his, and his indignation died a quick and painless death.

Scorpius gripped Al's collar and returned the kiss eagerly, pouring into it all of the frustration, regret, and pent-up desire that had led him to this point. He mimicked everything he remembered Al doing the last time they had kissed, determined to make Al forget everyone he had ever been intimate with. When they broke apart, Al was flushed and breathing hard.

"You've impressed me yet again, Scorpius. Who would've thought you could kiss like that?" Grinning, Scorpius removed his glasses and placed them on the bedside table before turning around fully and nuzzling the crook of Al's neck and shoulder. His breathing accelerated as Al's hands slid down his sides, pushing his robes off his shoulders and freeing his shirttails. "Are you sure about this?" Al asked when Scorpius made no move to stop him.

Scorpius inhaled, letting Al's familiar scent soothe his nerves, wound so tight they were fit to snap. "Yeah," he mumbled against Al's collarbone. "I... just go easy on me, all right? No overly kinky stuff."

"I'll try," Al said, planting one last quick kiss on Scorpius's lips before setting to work on the buttons of his shirt. Scorpius hoped Al couldn't feel his heart pounding furiously against his ribcage. He was going to have sex. With a bloke. With _Al_. Everything was moving so fast, spinning out of his control, but for once, he didn't mind. He wanted to get carried away, to let go, to experience this moment without any restraints. With Rose, everything had felt so stilted and uncertain: what to say, what to do, should I kiss her now. But here and now, with Al, thinking was an unnecessary hindrance. He wanted to _feel_.

Scorpius reached up to loosen his tie as Al tugged his shirt off, but Al knocked his hand away. "No, leave this on."

"Why?" Scorpius said, bemused. "You have a thing for ties?"

"Just Ravenclaw ones," Al said, hooking a finger under the loop of the tie as he deftly undid the buttons on Scorpius's trousers with his other hand.

Scorpius opened his mouth to reply, but Al's fingers grazed his erection, and he cut himself off with a gasp. He arched into Al's touch, desperate for more contact, and Al complied. Scorpius clenched his teeth, trying to hold back a moan. No one had ever touched him down there, and he couldn't help wondering what the bloody hell he'd been waiting for, because this felt _fucking brilliant_.

"No," he protested hoarsely when Al pulled his hand away. "No, keep going."

Al shook his head and kissed him. "I want to be in you," he murmured against Scorpius's lips. Scorpius's heart leapt into his throat. "Is that all right?"

"I-I don't know." Scorpius's brain provided him with a mental image of himself lying on his back as Al thrust into him. Despite the fresh wave of arousal that surged through him at the thought, the idea of being fucked was slightly frightening. Slowly, he shook his head. "Not now," he croaked.

He expected Al to frown and push him away, but instead, Al smiled and nodded. "Okay."

Scorpius barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief before Al lowered himself onto his stomach, bringing his mouth level with Scorpius's groin. With a jolt, Scorpius realised what Al was about to do. "Wait –"

Al's mouth closed around his cock, and whatever words Scorpius had been about to say were drowned by a low moan that tore from his throat. "Sweet Merlin," he gasped, his hands flying down to grab at handfuls of Al's hair.

Al worked his head up and down, his eyes fixed on Scorpius's the entire time, and there was no way Scorpius could close his eyes now, not even if he wanted to. He was drowning in those green irises, in the intense pressure building in his abdomen, and in no time, he was coming down Al's throat, whimpering as – _oh God_ – Al swallowed around him.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out once he had regained his breath.

Al sat up and licked his lips. "What're you sorry for?" he said, the rasp in his voice colouring Scorpius's cheeks. Al smirked. "Have I mentioned that seeing you blush turns me on?"

It was then that Scorpius noticed that Al was pulling himself off with quick, short strokes, jeans around his knees and free hand splayed out on the bed behind him. Scorpius's breath caught in his throat. Without thinking, he swatted Al's hand aside, replacing it with his own. He gave a tentative stroke, and then another when Al nodded his encouragement. It felt odd – like wanking himself, except not, because Al's cock felt different in his hand.

"Faster," Al choked out, thrusting into the circle of Scorpius's hand. Scorpius obeyed, tightening his grip and quickening his hand movements. He delighted in the way Al moaned and threw his head back, exposing the pale curve of his throat. Leaning down, Scorpius trailed his lips up Al's throat before capturing Al's lips in his own. He grimaced at the bitter taste on Al's lips, wondering what was so appealing about giving blowjobs.

Scorpius felt a surge of smug pride when Al came silently, biting his lip and screwing his eyes shut as his release coated Scorpius's fingers. Scorpius drew back and wiped his fingers on Al's sheets.

"_God_," Al panted, leaning back on his elbows. He levelled Scorpius with a heavy-lidded look and grinned lazily. "Thanks."

"No problem," Scorpius said awkwardly. What did one usually say after sex? Was he supposed to leave or stay now? "Er..."

As if he could read Scorpius's mind, Al grabbed the end of Scorpius's tie and tugged him down. "Stay," he whispered.

So Scorpius did.

--

"C'mon, Scorpius, you've got to eat something."

Scorpius turned away from the forkful of scrambled eggs Simon was waving in his face, trying to block out the nauseating smell radiating from it. "No thanks." He never ate before a Quidditch game, no matter how persistent Simon was about getting food into his mouth. Breakfast and a churning stomach didn't go well together.

"Why?" Simon whined. "Dad says Mr Potter always gave his best performances when he'd eaten a hearty breakfast beforehand."

"I don't care. I'm not eating."

Scorpius tugged at his hair, wondering if he should pin it back. It was getting long, and he didn't want it obscuring his vision while he was flying. He decided against the idea, and resumed fiddling with the straps on his knee-high boots. He always put on his Quidditch gear before coming down to breakfast on game days – it gave him time for a quick walk around the grounds to calm his nerves before he had to go into the locker room and listen to his captain – a loud, enthusiastic seventh-year named Ron Lawley – go over any last minute changes to their game plan.

"Please?" Simon pleaded, this time shoving a piece of buttered toast at Scorpius. "You'll need your energy to beat your boyfriend today."

"He's not my boyfriend, idiot. Besides, it's not like he's particularly hard to beat. Trust me, I'll knock him off his broom two seconds into the game."

"In that case, you'll need your energy for the make-up sex you two will have in the locker room after the game's over."

Scorpius buried his face in his hands. "You're incorrigible."

The sound of the morning post arriving made Scorpius look up. He felt a massive knot of dread form and settle in the pit of his stomach, effectively squashing the fluttering nerves that had previously occupied the same space. A few days had passed since the incident in the hallway – his father must have heard about the duel and had time to compose an adequate reply by now.

Simon noticed the Howler first. "Ah... that's unfortunate," he said, scooting away from Scorpius. Everyone else nearby followed suit.

"Why _today_?" Scorpius groaned. He became aware of an ominous silence in the Great Hall as all eyes turned towards the red envelope making its way to Scorpius.

They didn't have to wait long. Less than a second later, the Howler exploded.

"SCORPIUS HYPERION MALFOY!" shrieked his father's voice.

"Not the middle name," Scorpius heard Simon mutter. Scorpius slouched low in his seat and hoped fervently that his father would finish saying what he had to say before the game started.

"...CONDUCTED YOURSELF IN SUCH A MANNER THAT YOUR FACE IS NOW ON THE FRONT PAGE OF EVERY WIZARDING NEWSPAPER, YOUR MOTHER AND I FEEL THAT SUBTLETY IN HANDLING THIS UNFORTUNATE SITUATION WOULD BE LOST ON YOU. AS SUCH, YOU WILL HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE UNABASHED DELCARATION OF OUR FEELINGS IN THE SAME WAY WE HAD TO DEAL WITH YOURS WHEN WE WOKE UP AND SAW THE HEADLINES OF THE _DAILY PROPHET_. WE CAN ONLY HOPE THAT YOU WILL LEARN A LESSON ABOUT THE REPERCUSSIONS OF BEHAVING IN SUCH AN UNDIGNIFIED MANNER AND..."

All around Scorpius, students were crowding around those who had copies of the day's _Daily Prophet_. Scorpius had sunk so low in his seat that his face was level with the edge of the table.

"...BRAWLING IN PUBLIC? I WOULD HAVE EXPECTED SUCH UNSEEMLY BEHAVIOUR FROM THE LONGBOTTOM BOY, NOT MY OWN SON! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU THAT RESTRAINT IS THE KEY TO SUCCESS? A TRUE MAN DOES NOT ALLOW HIS EMOTIONS TO CONTROL – GO BACK TO PACKING, ASTORIA, I'M NOT FINISHED –

"SCORPIUS? SCORPIUS, THIS IS YOUR MOTHER. I APOLOGISE FOR YOUR FATHER'S LACK OF CONSIDERATION. IF THAT AIDEN COTTON BOY IS AROUND, MAKE SURE HE HEARS THIS..."

Scorpius glanced around wildly, but to his relief, Aiden was nowhere to be seen.

"...WON'T STAND FOR IT. YOUR MOTHER AND I ARE GOOD FRIENDS, AND SHE IS EQUALLY APPALLED BY YOUR DISGUSTING INTOLERANCE. BISEXUAL OR NOT, MY SON IS A FINE YOUNG MAN. HE DOES NOT DESERVE YOUR HALF-BLOOD INSULTS. IF YOU EVER UTTER ANOTHER SLANDEROUS WORD ABOUT HIM, REST ASSURED THAT I WILL KNOW. THERE IS NOTHING SHAMEFUL ABOUT TWO MEN IN LOVE; THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE BEEN RAISED BY MUGGLES OUGHT TO KNOW THAT. WHY, MY GREAT GRANDFATHER MADE A LIVING OFF OF –

"SHUT UP, WOMAN, THIS IS ABOUT SCORPIUS –

"I'M SORRY, SCORPIUS, IT APPEARS YOUR FATHER HAS SOMETHING TO SAY –

"SCORPIUS, IT'S YOUR FATHER. AS I WAS SAYING BEFORE YOUR MOTHER RUDELY INTERRUPTED ME, YOU MIGHT BE UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT I'M VERY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU. 'DISAPPOINTED' IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT. HOWEVER, I WOULD ALSO LIKE YOU TO KNOW THAT... I, ER, STAND BY WHAT I SAID. I STILL SUPPORT YOU. YOUR MOTHER AND I ARE PROUD OF YOU FOR, ER, FINALLY DEFENDING WHAT MATTERS TO YOU. THAT – THAT'S ALL."

The Howler burst into flames. Face burning hotter than the smouldering letter, Scorpius hauled himself into an upright position and cleared his throat. Before he could say anything to the crowd of students and professors waiting for his reaction, however, someone else spoke up.

"I can't believe you!"

All eyes swivelled over to the Slytherin table. Lily Potter had stormed over and now loomed over Al, one hand on her hip and the other clutching a long, white scarf.

"You _knew_ I liked him!" she wailed, the scarf flying around in the air as she made angry hand gestures. "Why are you always stealing my things?"

Several titters rose from the crowd of onlookers. Across the Great Hall, Scorpius tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. As tempting as it was to go over to the Slytherin table and point out that he wasn't a thing, much less a thing that belonged to Lily, he had a feeling it would be wiser to shrink into the background and let the Potter children duke it out.

"Shut up, Lily," Al said tiredly. He shovelled hash browns into his mouth, apparently unimpressed with the drama unfolding around him. "Scorpius doesn't like you. Go find someone else."

"_Fine!_" Lily balled up the scarf and threw it at her brother. "You can keep your stupid scarf. I didn't need it anyway!"

Scorpius couldn't resist sneaking a peek at the Gryffindor table. James Potter looked quite beyond himself. His friends were all patting him sympathetically on the back while he opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water.

_This,_ thought Scorpius, _is the most bizarre morning of my life._

Eventually the Heads of House came down to restore order, and breakfast resumed as usual. Scorpius had to endure Simon's taunts throughout, and at one point Rose came up to congratulate him on finally getting over her, but otherwise, the rest of the Ravenclaw table continued to ignore him.

Not soon enough, breakfast was over, and Scorpius set off for his traditional walk around the grounds. Al joined him as he stepped through the double doors into the cold, crisp morning.

"That was interesting," Al remarked, taking a bite from the apple he'd brought out with him.

"You could say that," Scorpius agreed. "What was up with your sister? Why'd she throw that scarf at you?"

"I bought it for her at Diagon Alley over the hols. She's always wearing low-cut tops, so I figured I should get her something to keep her warm during the winter before she catches pneumonia."

Realisation dawned upon Scorpius. "Wait... so you're saying the person you mentioned in that _Daily Prophet_ article was your sister?"

"Oh, you read that rubbish?" Al bit off one last chunk of apple before tossing the core away. "Yeah, that was her. I figured I'd have a bit of fun and pander to the reporters for once. They ate it up."

"So did the rest of the world," Scorpius said, feeling somewhat resentful. He had been worrying over nothing.

"I'm assuming you're not going to your locker room right now," Al said, gesturing at Scorpius's attire. "You look great, by the way."

Scorpius blushed. "Thanks, but complimenting me right now won't help you later."

"I'm serious!" Al protested. "Speaking of the game, you still sure you don't want to bet on it?"

It took Scorpius a moment to remember what Al was referring to. "I already told you, I don't need a bet to prove I'm better than your Beaters."

"What if I said the winner..."

Al leaned in and whispered something into Scorpius's ear. Scorpius turned red.

"I'm not interested in your bribes!"

"Oh?" Al nodded at Scorpius's crotch, which his Quidditch gear, unfortunately, did not conceal as well as his school robes. "It looks like that part of you is interested."

"I _hate_ you."

Al laughed, and warmth swelled in Scorpius's chest. He had come to cherish the simple joy in these moments, when the only person he saw was the one right in front of him, and nothing else mattered.

"Good luck, then," Al said as they approached the point where they would part ways.

"Wait, before you go, let me have the scarf."

Al stopped in his tracks. "Why? I can buy you a better one."

"You prat, I don't need you to buy me anything. I'm going to return it to Lily."

"You don't need to –"

"I want to," Scorpius said firmly, though in truth, he wasn't thrilled at the prospect of confronting Lily in private. "Someone needs to talk to her. If you're not going to do it, I will."

Al's expression softened. "All right."

He handed over the scarf. Scorpius took it and tucked it away safely into his pocket. When he glanced back up, Al had taken a step forwards. He looked uncertain.

"Sorry, do you mind if I...?"

Al's hesitation undid Scorpius. He slid an arm around Al's waist and tugged him into a kiss, not caring if all of Hogwarts was watching from the castle.

"Kiss me whenever you want," he said when he released Al.

Al's eyes glowed in the bright sunlight. "You're going to regret saying that."

"I'll be the judge of that," Scorpius said, smiling. "See you on the pitch, Al."

He watched until Al disappeared around the castle, then glanced up to check the flying conditions. The sun was out, but it was cloudy enough that he'd be able to see the other players without any trouble. Pleased, Scorpius set off in the direction of the lake.

It was going to be a good game.


End file.
